Scarlet
by FlyinGShadoW1314
Summary: SLASH Derek/Stiles: Fed up with being taken for granted and tired of feeling rejected, Stiles starts to pull away from the pack he's not sure he's even a part of in the first place. Along the way of building up his self image, he meets some new fabulously flamboyant friends and rediscovers a side of himself he'd forgotten about. Crossdressing!Stiles. Threesome, warnings inside.
1. Maroon

**A/N: This turned into a monster. All I wanted to write was smut, dammit. **

**Okay so this is basically a tribute fic to all my favorite Sterek headcanons, fic tropes and kinks out there (and there's a lot) as well as me venting my feelings on behalf of Stiles as well as for Stiles through Stiles. Soooo this might take awhile. XD **

**I can't write fight scenes – emotional or physical - worth a damn, but gawds, the porn is gonna be so dirty.**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

Stiles is tired.

He is so, so _tired_.

Between fighting the supernatural, lying constantly to his dad at home, and trying to keep up with schoolwork, he is exhausted. He feels worn down, overwhelmed. Under-appreciated.

Scott is still pining over Allison, trying to make things work with her which means no time for Stiles, his best friend.

Jackson and Lydia are in the same boat, making Stiles give up on his ten year crush on her a while back when he realized she truly does love Jackson, though he will always think of Lydia with great admiration and that she deserves way more than that douche nozzle.

Besides, he has someone else in mind. Had, anyway.

Danny only tolerates him because Danny's a nice guy.

Erica, Issac and Boyd are back with Peter and Derek.

And Derek?

Stiles could feel the first pinpricks behind his eyes at the reminder of the Alpha werewolf, and hastily blinks them away to concentrate on the road.

Derek said he wasn't pack, and it had hurt far worse than it should have.

* * *

They'd been arguing the moment he stepped out of his jeep before the pack was due to meet for their weekly training session that Stiles wasn't invited to. Again. Which was fine, considering - you know - he was human, so he usually just invites himself along.

After running the Alpha pack out of town and then defeating their latest creature of the week – in which Stiles' favorite limited edition Batman shirt ends up in _shreds_ (he wanted to cry the moment it happened, and a second after that Derek had torn the creature's throat out right in front of him, _with his teeth_) - Derek had stepped up training for the betas to extreme levels.

Stiles hadn't liked that, especially when Scott - who had finally agreed to and accepted being part of Derek's pack - had come to his house looking like he'd been through a fight with a horde of evil possessed lawnmowers, run over by a 18 wheeler, and then that same 18 wheeler had backed up to run him over again before parking on top of him after that week's pack meeting (which Stiles couldn't attend to due to the ever increasing mountain of homework he had to finish).

"How the hell is this helping them? 'Oh, let's just shred them up on my claws! Break their bones repeatedly with my mighty furry fists of fury, and make them heal slowly in agony on the forest floor to make them stronger!' Yeah, okay. What kind of half assed training regime is that? At this rate, you won't have betas to train!"

"Shut up, Stiles. What would you know about pack dynamics?" Derek had growled back, fists clenching at his sides as Stiles continued his angry tirade despite the fact that the wolf's green eyes began to bleed red, and the muscles of his arms bulged out enticingly...No! Now was not the time for ogling your new forever-shirtless love interest, Stilinski, so focus!

God, why is it always the impossibly unreachable ones he falls head over ass for?

He shakes his head and gets his head back in the game.

"I know damn well plenty! Apparently more than you do because you'd know that packs, both wolves and werewolves, need more than violent force and strong arming to survive. They need care and nurturing. They need support, a kind hand," he flails his hands violently, "They need to bond, dammit!"

"They are bonding!" Derek had roared back, his jaws snapping and his fangs extended menacingly.

"No, not like this, not enough to grow, to thrive," he had said undeterred, though Derek could probably hear the jackrabbit beating of his heart, "They need to bond with_ you_. You know, since your their leader and all? The one they should feel they can turn to in times of crisis? Ring a bell?" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, they need your help, your guidance, but this isn't the way to stabilize and establish a good pack, Derek, and you know it. Even Jackson and Scott are starting to get along. You need to be a team player and open up in order for this to work, as much as they are for each other!"

At this point, the older man had heard enough and spun on his heel to storm into the house, which the pack was almost done renovating. "I don't_need_ to do anything, and I certainly don't need you, a_useless human outsider_,to tell me how to run my own goddamn _**pack**_," he spat the words out viciously before throwing open the old front door with such force it bounced back from the wall and broke in half as he disappeared inside, leaving Stiles speechless outside.

Well, then.

If that's how he feels...

Stiles doesn't remember getting into his jeep, but he'd driven away in a numb haze, feeling absolutely shattered.

* * *

By the time he gets home Stiles rushes up to his room, ignoring his father's concerned calls and throws himself onto his bed. He grabs a hold of his comforter and rolls himself into a burrito facing the wall. He is a depressed, lonesome, _human_ burrito but at least now he's warm. Fall is here and winter was just around the corner, so it was getting kinda chilly even in northern California.

A few moments later, he hears his dad's footsteps coming up the stairs and the tentative knock on his door.

He groans but his dad enters the room anyway and sits down next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Wanna talk about it?" John asks, running a warm calloused hand through his son's soft prickly hair.

Stiles had let it grown out a little, about half an inch from his buzz cut peach fuzz, so now his head looks like a hedgehog but that's okay. Hedgehogs are cute, just like him!

Oh, who was he kidding.

He turns onto his other side and curls around his dad, snuggling up to him like he hadn't since his mother's passing.

"Don't really wanna talk at all, surprise surprise," he mumbles, but burrows closer, "'M sorry, dad."

"For what?"

He sighs, "For...everything. Making you lose your job, even though you got it back again no thanks to me, lying to you all the time...but it wasn't because I wanted to, I swear. I just...I needed to help Scott with some things, and they weren't my secrets to tell, but I _promise_ you now that it won't happen again. It's over," he declares, because it's true. He is done, sick and tired about all things werewolf. They apparently didn't need him any longer once he'd worn out his_ usefulness, _and he never even got a measly little thank you for all he's done for them.

From now on, he's going to focus on getting his grades back up, applying to colleges next year, and taking care of himself and his dad, like he should have done from the beginning before all this supernatural drama invaded his life.

"Okay," his dad nods, "I'm glad you told me, glad you're talking to me again, son. It was all I'd wanted." Stiles couldn't take the sad, tired look in his dad's eyes anymore and sat up to wrap him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," his voice cracks a little, but that's okay because his dad's does too.

"Love you, too."

* * *

Things don't immediately go back to how they were before, but it does get a lot better.

Now that he's excommunicated himself with all things outside of school and home, he's a lot less stressed. It feels like a weight as been lifted from him now that he and his dad are working on building their father-son relationship to its former glory.

It's nice to see his dad smiling at him again instead of his disappointed frown – granted, it was an exasperated but fond smile, but he'll take what he can get at this point.

Stiles is determined to make sure that his dad never has to feel let down again, or at the very least make it a rare occurrence.

He's taken to lining his window with mountain ash and refortifying his belief every morning and every evening to make sure it wards away any werewolves from entering his bedroom. Just in case.

At school with the beginning of their senior year, he starts to avoid the pack as much as he can, only listening to Scott going on and on about Allison with half an ear now that he's decided not to care as much as before. Not that anyone notices anything different with him anyway, and if they did he'd just ignore them.

He starts bringing his own lunch in and eating it in an empty classroom or in the library while he does his homework and looking at colleges, and now that he's switched his ADHD pills over to a new natural alternative medication, it's turning out to be a lot better when Adderall just wasn't cutting it for him anymore.

He's focusing better and tries harder in lacrosse to make his dad proud, shocking everyone on the field when he manages to coordinate himself and sneak past the werewolves on the team - since he knew their weak spots - as well as Danny in the net to score a goal during practice.

It makes him feel good, which is not something he can say easily nowadays, and even on a good day his self-esteem has never been particularly high. (It's not like he's ugly or deformed, he knows that, but being constantly surrounded by physical supernatural perfection all the time takes its toll).

On Friday, a week after all..._that_, Stiles just made himself comfortable in the library, ready to look over what Standford has to offer again when Lydia struts in on her cute teal back-sling wedges and makes a beeline towards the table he's using. To say Stiles is surprised would have been an understatement.

"Uh...Lydia?" he asks hesitantly when it looks like Lydia isn't going to moving anytime soon, munching on a granny smith apple as she pulls out her math and chemistry notes.

He flushes when all she does is raise a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him and sighs, "Look, I'm not going to pretend I know exactly what you're dealing with right now, but I can make a pretty damn good observation. Whatever it is with the pack you can tell me later, if you want. I just wanted you to know that, okay? Plus Jackson and I are fighting again and I've missed having someone finally intelligent enough to have serious discussions with."

Warmth suddenly floods Stiles and he gives her a real smile, making her give him one in return. A genuine smile from Lydia Martin, who had apparently noticed his absence and came looking for him, who wants to be friends, at the very least study buddies, with one Stiles Stilinski.

Today's the happiest day of his life.

* * *

Later that night, Stiles wishes his dad a good night at work with some leftover veggie lasagna in a lunchbox for him as the Sheriff leaves for the graveyard shift.

"Oh yeah, Dad, and just to let you know, I think I'll be going out tonight."

At that John raises an eyebrow, making Stiles shift nervously.

He knows he hasn't been out in a while, and when he did it usually ended up a bad idea, but did it really warrant that look? "What?"

"Nothing. Just...don't get into any trouble and be back by midnight, all right? Text me when you're home."

Stiles' shoulders lose their tension and he grins, happy that his dad is trusting him again with the small stuff and that things are looking like they're getting back to normal.

"Yessir!" he mock salutes, making his dad snort. The Sheriff gently cuffs him on the head and rubs at his hair before heading out. Stiles closes the door, the smile firmly stuck on his face.

* * *

Around 8 o'clock he drives his beloved jeep over to Jungle, his mind set.

Okay, so this is it. He is going to figure out if he's attractive to gay guys and if gay guys are attractive to him once and for all.

After lunch with Lydia, the girl he had held a steadfast torch for since kindergarten, the girl he thought he was in love with, he feels like he needed to see where he fell regarding his sexuality.

Because aside from Lydia, he doesn't think he's felt anything remotely as strong for any other girl after puberty hit. Lydia just happens to be the prettiest and smartest of them all so he fixated on that, like she was a celebrity. Someone to put on a pedestal.

It occurred to him during lunch that he's never really thought of Lydia in a sexual way, not past making out and some heavy petting. He's relieved to find out that they work better as friends now anyway.

But boys? He'll admit he's checked out his teammates a time or two in the locker room. Whether it was just male admiration or something deeper, he has no clue, which was why he was in his Jeep trying to muster up the courage to just get out and find out if this is a gay thing or a bi thing or just a strange phase he's going through.

Though he admits he's had some pretty dirty locker room fantasies. Amongst others. With boys.

Safe to say, he's really confused.

Maybe it's just a Derek thing.

He shakes his head. Nope, not going there tonight, because if he goes there tonight, he'll go through all the things that are different with Derek than they were with Lydia, like how all those muscles made him feel in deeper ways Lydia's curves never did, and if that sexy stubble would hurt or tickle against his skin, and _god_, those _eyes_...

Anyway. Derek Feelings. They go beyond what Lydia Feelings ever were. He'll deal with that issue later.

Time to face the music and get his answers.

Of course once he somehow manages to get inside pass the bouncer, it's harder than it seems. Loud pulsing techno blares from the speakers and flashing lights were everywhere.

Meandering and squeezing his way past writhing masculine bodies on the dance floor, Stiles fights his way to a thankfully empty stool at the bar and puts his head down for a moment.

Okay, just a small break and a soda will calm his nerves enough to do this.

Right.

An amused chuckle close by urges him to lift his head and he's greeted by the sight of laughing cocoa brown eyes and a dazzling white smile of the bartender. The guy kind of looked like an older version of Taylor Lautner with his russet skin, messy black spikes of hair and tight black muscle shirt showing off his impressive biceps.

"Rough night?" the bartender asks good-naturedly and Stiles blushes but gives him a weak grin.

"You could say that. How could you tell?" he jests back and sits up straight again. Ha, straight. In a gay club. The jokes just keep coming. Ha! _Coming_.

"Intuition," the guy says, leaning across the bar towards Stiles, "So what will it be? Butt Sex? Screaming Orgasm? Blue Balls? Slippery Nipple?"

At the deer-in-headlights look on Stiles' gaping face, the bartender cracks up before pulling out a glass and pours some ice and a can of coke into it, then places it in front of his flustered customer on a coaster.

"Maybe just a coke on the rocks to start with?"

At this, Stiles snaps out of his daze and closes his mouth to cough into his hand, totally embarrassed.

"Ah, haaah...Drinks. That was what you were talking about. Right. The hot bartender was totally not hitting on me. Got it." He takes a sip in an attempt to hid how red his face is. He fails, epically.

The bartender grins, "Aw, don't sell yourself short, cutie. If I didn't have a boyfriend and you were legal, I'd totally tap that." He winks and chuckles at Stiles astonished face.

"R-Really?" Guess that answers his question.

"Well, you certainly are cute even with the geek chic fashion you got going on." He gestures at Stiles' Marvel T-shirt under his usual plaid overshirt. "I'm sure you'll find someone here that adores that particular flavor of twink. What's your name by the way?"

"Stiles."

"Cool, I'm Jake."

Remembering his earlier thought, Stiles couldn't help the snort of laughter that escapes and Jake rolls his eyes at him.

"I know, I know. I get it all the time. It doesn't help that my boyfriend's name is Edward either."

The two break into laughter and conversation flows easily from there as well as the drinks.

Jake doesn't seem to care that he is obviously underage but keeps from being heavy handed with the cocktails he has Stiles try, waving his hand in dismissal when Stiles gets concerned about how he was going to pay for all the drinks.

"They're on the house. I haven't had this much fun at work that didn't lead to the bedroom in ages."

So Stiles ends up befriending the bartender. Awesome.

A couple hours later and he's pleasantly buzzed, nursing the last of his Sex on the Beach as Jake tends to another patron.

He's fiddling around with the straw in his mouth when someone big presses up against his back. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees two beefy arms boxing him in against the bar. What-? "Uh..."

"Hey, sweetheart. Wanna dance?" is breathed into his ear and he can smell the beer on the guy's breath.

"No. No thanks," he squeaks out before he's spun around on his stool and – holy shit this guy is built like a body builder and all up in his space. He is all up in Stiles' grill right now and since he's certainly not Derek - who he does _not_ want to think about in a time like this - Stiles is not okay with this! Even if he's attractive in a douchey kind of way. Like Jackson. Okay, so that's not someone Stiles wants to be thinking about either, or _ever_.

"Hey! The guy said no so back off already, Brett," Jake says from behind the bar, and from his tone of voice his new friend is tense.

"Why don't you just shut the fuck up, Jacob," Brett sneers, "Be a good little puppy and go back to that sparkling fairy boytoy of y-"

"That. Iz. _Enough._"

At the sound of the powerful, booming voice that comes thundering over the music, Brett jerks away from him like a hot tamale and _oh my god_, this tall caramel-skinned Amazon goddess descends from the heavens dressed in a sexy leather catsuit to save Stiles, and she's about unleash a can of whoop-ass and take names from the poisonous look on her gorgeous painted face.

Brett seems to know it too, so he turns and flees with his tail between his legs, leaving Jake to laugh long and loud, mockingly calling after him, "So long, motherfucker!"

With the imminent threat to his person swiftly taken cared of, Stiles sags against the bar and sighs in relief.

"Oh, _man_. Dude. That...that was kind of intensely _not_ okay."

"Indeed," the Amazon goddess chimes in with a hand on her cocked hip, flicking her honey blonde waves over a broad shoulder, "Are you all right, _cherie_?"

Stiles grins, "I am now, thanks to you. My Amazon heroine," he swoons and bats his eyelashes, making the statuesque beauty chuckle in that dark smoky voice of hers.

"You are a sweet boy," she coos and scratches him lightly on the head with her long golden nails that match her glittering eye shadow. Stiles' grin turn a little shy at that.

"I'm so sorry about that, Stiles," Jake says as he comes out from behind the bar, looking so guilty that Stiles just wanted to snuggle up to him to make those remorseful puppy eyes go away, "I knew that good for nothing ex of mine was a jackass, but I didn't think he'd ever do _that_. Forgive me?"

"Of course, dude. It wasn't your fault," he replies easily and Jakes sweeps him into a hug. Stiles returns it enthusiastically, pats and rubs his back - because his hugs are _awesome,_ thank you very much and Jake was a 100% hottie - before pulling away to ask, "Sooo, does that mean I get free drinks all the time now? Is that how this works?"

That does the trick and Jake laughs again, punching him on the shoulder playfully and Stiles fake whines and rubs the spot with a pout, "You're gonna get me arrested, punk, but we'll see."

"Hm," the blonde bombshell hides a smile behind her hand, "I am going to steal this one away from you, Jacob. I wish for him to meet ze girls."

Jake nods with a wave of his hand as he gets back to work. "Sure thing, Dom. Hey Stiles, don't let the ladies eat you alive, okay? That bunch can be downright scary sometimes, so watch out!"

"W-What?"

"Don't be a stranger!" The bartender sends him off with a gleeful smile as Dom leads an apprehensive Stiles away from the bar with a steady manicured hand on his back.

Oh, _man_, was he going to his doom meeting the 'ladies' or what? The last time he was here, the queens he met were really nice. He and Mystique still text each other every week or so. Were these girls going to bite his head off like praying mantises or...or claw his eyes out if he says the wrong thing? (And c'mon he's not gonna kid himself. He so totally would even if it was completely by accident.)

It turns out he's worried for nothing.

Even though Sugar Mama 'just wanted to eat him up!' when Wonder Woman Dominique first introduces him to her friends, Stiles is pretty sure that was a good thing while the fiery, vivacious Anita Mann carries on gushing about the color of his eyes ("Look how bright they are! Like gems!") in her thick Spanish accent. Amber D. Lights and Crystal Ballz both bitch under their breaths about how soft his skin is and ask him what products he uses to keep it that way as they molest his arms, and the Gemini twins Cassie and Paula both coo over his pretty eyelashes and beauty marks.

So that's how Stiles ends up with a bunch of drag queens fawning over him. It's not half bad.

He thinks he can grow to love Jungle. Ha! _Grow_. Never let it be said that Stiles Stilinski doesn't have the jokes.

* * *

With a few more drinks to go around, Stiles is feeling content and sleepy. He's leaning against Dominique, resting his head on her shoulder as she pets his hair and gently scratches his scalp and Stiles just wants to _purr_.

Dom chuckles with delight, "You are **adorable**,_comme un petit chaton__._ Tell me, Stiles, have you ever considered a step on ze _wild_ side?"

"Huh?" he mutters drowsily.

"What Dom means, sweet thang, is if you ever thought about dressin' in drag, for fun if anythang else, cuz you know we be livin' it up in our _fan_tastic animal print and sequins!" Sugar Mama crows in her Southern Louisiana drawl, making the other ladies holler and raise their drinks in wholehearted agreement.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess," he mumbles, "For Halloween or something. I used to when I was little but I grew out of it. My Mom," he swallows, which the ladies take immediate notice of, "My Mom used to dress me up as a kid when she found out how much I liked wearing princess costumes instead of Power Rangers, though I still loved those too. We'd spend the day together in the kitchen making things from her family recipes. It was one of the things we did together that was just for us because she didn't believe in gender norms and wanted me to experience everything with an open mind. Wouldn't be opposed to it if it's for fun."

"Our annual Halloween Drag Show is coming up at the end of next month," Crystal chimes in, fluffing up her hair. "We'd love to have new blood up on stage with us. Interested?"

Stiles mulls the idea over in his sluggish brain but ends up shrugging, "Sure, why the hell not."

It seems like that was the right move because the ladies all cheer and talk a mile a minute about what they want to see him in. He's happy to see them so excited.

"You will not regret it. It will be ze time of your life," Dom murmurs the promise into the shell of his ear, a sexy tilt on her dark stained lips as he nuzzles closer.

After sobering up a bit with a tall glass of water and some curly fries thanks to Paula, Stiles texts his dad and deletes the ones from Scott and the pack asking/demanding to know where he is while Amber offers him a ride ("You are in no shape to drive, pumpkin"). They are going to pick him up tomorrow to go shopping two towns over and a 'spa day', then swing by Jungle again during the dead hours to help him practice how to walk in heels before he heads home for dinner with his dad.

Suddenly he wasn't so certain on what he just got himself into at the mention of stilettos but Dom assures him he'll do splendidly as they all exchange numbers.

"Until tomorrow,_ cherie. Bonne nuit,_" she says with a kiss on the cheek. He grins and flails a hand at them in goodbye as Amber peels out of the parking lot to take him home.


	2. Ruby

**A/N: Wow, I didn't expect people to actually like this, haha. Tank yu so much for stopping by! :D Hope yu enjoy this next installment. **

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

The next morning, he wakes slightly hungover to the chime of the Power Rangers signal going off on his phone, signaling a text. It's from Amber.

_**Make sure to take some aspirin and eat something, cupcake. Be there in 30. ;D  
**_

Checking the time, he grumbles a little to himself that it was too damn early to be up on a Saturday but hauls himself up to get ready.

Half an hour later, three crazy fancy expensive-looking sports cars pull up in front of his house, and after scribbling a note to his dad and sticking it onto the fridge, he hurries into the one in front of the line, waving to the girls in the other two vehicles.

"Good morning, _cherie_. Sleep well?" Dom asks as she pulls away from the curb, the others following suit.

"Mornin'," Stiles attempts to stifle a yawn, "Yeah, I slept like a baby considering all the fun-times I had last night. Jake's, like, super dangerous with vodka, man. I also crammed down a bagel this morning to go with my meds, so I'm good to go."

She smirks at his choice of words, "Excellent. First stop: clothes." Shifting gears, she puts pedal to the metal and Stiles starts to feel a little worried at the slightly maniacal look in her eyes. He's really glad he'd buckled up already - safety first! "Oh, we are going to have so much _fun_. I have not had anyone to spoil in ages! I wonder if silk or lace would be better against your skin. Hmm, maybe both..."

Scratch worried, Stiles is suddenly very, very afraid for his fashion sense and hangs onto his seat as Dom expertly weaves in and out of traffic, the others not far behind them.

* * *

Once they get into the city and to the specialty boutiques that cater to ladies such as Stiles' new friends, the boy is immediately bombarded by fashion choices that the girls throw into his arms.

He learns the importance of basic pieces and the difference between an A-line and a pencil skirt, how to bisect the ass and how to show it off tastefully with jackets or blouses, some of which that cinch at the waist to help make it appear smaller and slimmer.

He's shown how to create the illusion of curves where there were none before and how to soften the lines of his body with draping and ruching. ("_Ugh_, you're not as broad up top, you lucky bitch. So jelly!" Amber sighs at him before thrusting an off the shoulder dress at him to try on.)

He studies the way color and patterns work together and how to complete an outfit with shoes and accessories, soaking the new information up like a sponge. The girls are taking this competition very seriously, so he will too.

By the end of the first hour, the pile in his arms goes over his head and he cautiously makes his way over towards the fitting room Dom points him to and manages not to trip over himself in the process.

It was going to be a long day, he could already tell.

* * *

The next stop is choosing make-up which thankfully didn't take as long as the clothes did, but still. By the time they are out of Sephora – after testing them on Stiles which he did not appreciate and picking out the perfect shade of foundation, blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, lip_gloss -_ Stiles now understands the meaning of shop 'til you drop. His poor knees feel like they're going to give up on him at any moment.

After that is the salon. It takes the combined efforts of Sugar Mama and Anita Mann to drag his pale scrawny ass into a chair kicking and screaming, but they did and Stiles pouts and complains the whole time his nails - all twenty of them – are cleaned, cut, buffed and polished. He absolutely _bitches_ and curses like a sailor when it came time to_waxing_ of all things.

Scarring, traumatic experiences are scarring and traumatic, and Stiles nearly weeps when Dom soothes a hand over his head and says that next time, he could do it at home with Nair or shaving cream and a razor if he wants.

Anything would be better than doing _that _again. Stiles wasn't sure if was bleeding in some places or not because _ow_.

"Hate. So much hate right now," he groans as he hobbles out of the salon and itches at his newly groomed eyebrows, his entire body sensitive and tingling from the horrid wax treatment.

"Buck up, buttercup," Crystal says unsympathetically as she breezes by, "Welcome to life of a Queen."

"If this is the life, can I go back to being a stable boy then? A peasant, even?" he whines, and yelps when the twins give him a playful smack on his new shiny reddened ass.

"Nope!" they chirp and hook their arms around his to drag him to their next destination.

* * *

"Seriously?" Stiles gapes at the window displays and Dom gently closes his mouth before he's being pushed inside. "Why meee?" he moans as he is asked to strip from the waist up by the sales consultant.

"The bra is your friend, honey. Embrace it," Sugar Mama nods as the sales consultant takes her measuring tape and goes to work, taking note of his measurements with an expert eye.

"Lingerie iz essential," Dom adds in as the other girls go about browsing, and he's once again stuck inside a changing room with a pile of things to try on a while later, half of which he didn't even how to put on but he somehow manages.

He tries on the first set, satin red with black lace artfully sewed on, and when he pulls the panties up his legs he shivers as the soft fabric rubs up against his smooth hairless skin.

Okay, so maybe there was a reason for the whole waxing thing after all.

Making sure everything is tucked into the appropriate places – thank god these were cut specifically to fit men's bodies – Stiles shifts and moves experimentally to find them actually kind of pleasant against his family jewels. They kind of cradle him in all the right places and aren't as restricting as he first thought they would be. Huh. Interesting.

He turns to see what he looked like in the mirror and admires how the red and black compliments his skin tone, then spins around to see how it looked in the back.

"Wow. Well you look at that," he mutters to himself and waggles his eyebrows at his reflection. "Stiles got_ booty_." He laughs to himself. "Kinky."

Oh, man, if anyone ever found out about this...

The thought has the same effect as ice cold water poured over his head and reality rears its ugly head.

If anyone found out about this, he'd be the high school pariah, even more so than before. He could imagine the look of disbelief on Scott's face, the surprise on Danny's, the disgusted mocking on _Jackson's_...

God, what will he Dad think? He just got him back; he doesn't want to jeopardize that now after everything that went down. His Dad is all he had left. Sure the Sheriff had been tolerant and indulgent when he was a kid, but now he's almost eighteen years old. He was going to have to keep this a secret.

Oh my god, and _Derek_...

Stiles didn't realize he was hyperventilating until Dom's gentle hand comes to rest on his shoulders and he's tugged into an embrace.

"Breathe, _cherie_, breathe for me," she instructs in a clear voice that cuts through the fog inside his head, "copy me."

She places one of his hands on her chest right above her heart and takes deep steadying breaths, holding in for two and then exhaling out for one. In for two, out for one. He follows her lead until slowly starts to breathe normally on his own again.

Humiliated, he buries his face into her neck and trembles in her arms, "I'm sorry."

"Hush, _ma petite_. It iz not your fault," she says soothingly, rubbing calming circles into his back, "I was so worried though when I came to check up on you, and you did not answer me. To find you like that...What happened to make you panic so?"

"M-my Dad, he's all I have left, Dom. What if he hates me and disgusted with me when he – when he -"

"There, there, Stiles," she croons, "he does not have to find out, not unless you want him to, and if he does, from what you've told us about him last night, he will love you still. He sounds like a good man."

"The best," he says softly.

Dom smiles, "Indeed. And if things do not turn out so well, I could always give him a talking to, but I doubt it will come to that so no more sadness, _oui?_"

Stiles can't help but grin at the mental image of Dom in her catsuit giving his father the Sheriff a dressing down and takes a moment to compose himself before he nods, "_Oui_."

She smiles, "_T__rès bon_. Now, let me take a look at you."

Stiles takes a step back out of her arms and fights not to fidget as she looks him over with a critical eye.

"Ah, _magnifique_! The twins chose well with ze color. How do you feel in this particular cut? Iz good, _non_?"

He scratches his necks and blushes, "It, um...it's actually really comfortable, and I like how it looks on me. Now that I've discovered your secrets, I kind of don't want to go back, I don't think. Hence my freakout about everything."

She nods and smirks, a knowing look in her eyes, "Does it make you feel more confident in yourself? More...sexy?"

His blush darkens and he nods. "I don't know about the rest yet, but these panties are kind of bomb."

She grins, "_Très, très bon!_ I knew when I first laid eyes on you that you would be special. You just need a little coaxing." She gestures to the pile on a nearby chair, "Come, we have much to try on, let us see how you look with ze rest of ze set..."

* * *

Dominique almost buys him half the store until Stiles finally puts his foot down and manages to get away with just three bra and panty sets (the bras came fully padded for the perfect feminine silhouette and Stiles ends up choosing three cuts for the panties: bikini, cheekies, and the comfy hiphuggers), two garter belts, three camisoles, four pairs of stockings, and a slinky little red bathrobe.

After that it's time to hit the spa, and as he's turned into a puddle of bliss under Hilda's expert hands, he could say the fully body Swedish massage was definitely worth everything he's endured today. He's so relaxed and feeling good that he didn't even complain once when it was his turn for a facial.

When it's time to leave the girls groan and whine, but Stiles reminds them that the clock is ticking and they should hurry back to Jungle if they want to teach him how to walk properly. He hasn't had dinner with his dad in what feels like a long time and he ain't gonna miss it for no man (or woman as is the case).

* * *

By the time he finally stumbles into his house under the ridiculous weight of his 'gifts' – what the girls had told him to take the new wardrobe as, since he didn't spend a single penny today (they wouldn't hear it and refused to take his money when he'd tried reasoning with them) – his feet are screaming at him, 'Why? Why would you do that to us? Put us through that torture after all the places we've been though?'

'God, I think I have blisters on my blisters,' he thinks, wincing with every step up the stairs to his room. ''New shoes always need to be broken in, especially pumps.' 'Broken in', my ass, Dom!' he stops, then snorts to himself, 'Oh, hello jokes. Long time to see.'

Shaking his head, he has just enough time to hide the bags in the back of his closet and start dinner when his dad comes home from his weekly meeting with Chris Argent down at the firing range.

Yeah, he doesn't exactly like the fact his dad is suddenly besties with the hunter, but what can ya do. There is the fact that Chris is the only remotely decent one to come from that demented, psychotic family besides Allison, but that isn't really saying much. Also, Stiles really doesn't want to think about the girl who pretty much stole his best friend from him however unintentionally it was, and tried to kill people not so long ago. And going off tangent, but isn't Chris, like, with crazy uncle Peter Hale now (or is it 'back together with')?

Well, more like just sassy uncle Peter. The older wolf has mellowed out a lot, especially after hooking up with older Argent again. Apparently those two have history last time he heard, but what does he know. It wasn't like he was pack or anything.

He pushes the feeling of bitterness down and turns around to greet his dad before going back to work on his grilled chicken and wild rice with sauteed vegetables.

* * *

The next night he's back at Jungle for what the girls call his Grand Entrance. With Caps.

Stiles is understandably terrified, nervous and a little excited all at the same time.

"Relax, _chica_," Anita says as she's powdering his nose, "Chu will do _fantástico_." She moves out of the way so the twins can finish up on his eyes with mascara.

"Waiii, so beautiful, Sti-chan!" they squee, matching porcelain doll-like faces beaming from under black bangs as they clap their manicured hands excitedly at their work of art.

He looks in the mirror and doesn't see the gawky, lanky, geeky boy with the flailing limbs he's used to seeing. Instead, he see a shy, rather pretty girl with bright honey colored eyes and pink glossy lips. He tries a smile and the girl in the mirror smiles back.

"Agreed," Dom nods in approval as Sugar Mama pinches his lightly rouged cheeks and Amber fusses with the long loose dark auburn curls of his wig - which actually matches his actual hair color rather well - along with the satin ribbon headband.

Crystal hands over his shoes, a pair of four inch mary jane pumps that go with his 'innocent school girl' look for the evening and Stiles suddenly doesn't think he could do this.

Even if he's now stable on stilts and can walk around all right, what if he falls flat on his ass like he did the first time he took a step in heels? He occasionally trips over himself wearing sneakers.

What if his wig falls off or he has a wardrobe malfunction? What if he ends up embarrassing the girls?

Sensing his distress by the look on his face, Dom kneels down in front of him and takes a hold of his hands and gives them a reassuring squeeze. "You will be fine." She spoke with such confidence in him that Stiles takes a deep shaky breath and nods his head, determined to believe it too. Smiling proudly Dom aids him with his shoes, commenting on his nice simple choice of white knee-high socks, and makes sure he puts in those gel inserts to make them more comfortable before helping him stand.

"Show time, girls," she calls and the rest of the ladies holler.

* * *

The crowd that greets them as they step on stage goes wild, and Stiles is surprised there were so many people here for the ladies. Drag nights seems really popular and Jungle is proud of its Queens.

He gives an awkward smile and wave when he's first introduced as Scarlet, his new stage name, blushing and biting his lip as the crowd welcomes him with great enthusiasm. Catcalls and wolf whistles ring out and some guys even go so far as to lick their lips when he meets their lustful gazes, all for him.

Something loosens inside him as he smiles more naturally and begins to ham it up a little, actually enjoying the attention. It does wonders for his battered self-esteem, his confidence level slowly rising. Maybe he could do this after all.

* * *

Later that night he's heading to the bar to visit Jake, men coming up to him like flies to honey with propositions to dance which he politely turns down, when he bumps into someone.

"Oh, sorry-" He looks up into Danny's shocked brown eyes.

"Stiles?"

**Fuck**.

"Please, don't tell anyone," he immediately begs, clutching the hem of his flitted gray sweater vest anxiously. "_Please_. I know I annoy you with all my 'Am I attractive to gay guys' questions but I finally figured it out on my own so if you could just keep this to yourself, I would be eternally grateful but if you-"

"Stiles," Danny interrupts his babbling and he takes a breath as the other boy puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and peers at him with understanding, "it's fine. I won't tell anyone, okay?"

"Promise?" he asks quietly, not wanting this to be taken away from him just when he's found it, and Danny smiles kindly at him.

"I promise. It's not my secret to tell, not that I go around spilling people's secrets anyway." Shrugging, he leads Stiles to the bar, "Besides, you make a very pretty lady."

He grins when all Stiles does is gape at him and he closes his mouth for him.

"Wanna drink?"

Stiles nods and waves at Jake who looks ecstatic to see him. He turns to Danny with a cheeky smile, "Suck, Bang & Blow sound good to you?"


	3. Crimson

**A/N: This is where things get heated. Then angsty. ):**

**EDIT: Chapter fixed and reuploaded! Tanks for letting me know. :D  
**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

At school the following week, Stiles is feeling on top of the world. He had a great time with Danny and the ladies last Sunday night - who all loved the Hawaiian boy instantly on sight when they met him; he'd aced the chemistry test on Monday much to Mr. Harris's annoyance, and he got an extra soda out of the vending machine during break today.

Humming to himself he was just on his way to meet Lydia for lunch when he's pulled into an empty classroom by none other than Scott, who he hasn't seen in days.

"Dude, where were you this weekend? You didn't answer any of my texts and I couldn't get into your room through the window," Scott says with a confused look on his face.

"What, no 'Hello, Stiles'?" he scoffs and shakes his head, crossing his arms, "I was busy, and breaking and entering is against the law by the way."

"C'mon, man, this is important. You missed the pack meeting last week and Derek was more pissed off than usual and took it out on us."

At that, Stiles begins to feel his annoyance bleed into genuine anger.

"So what, you expect me to do something about it?"

"Well, Derek listens to you-"

He laughs, the ugly sound tearing out of his throat in awful jagged notes. "Look, just because I missed one of your little meetings doesn't mean I owe Derek anything. It's not my fault he's an asshole and you got your asses handed to you because of it. Knowing you, you probably willingly and knowingly provoked him with something, because even though he's your Alpha, you're still don't follow him like a good beta should. Not that I entirely blame you since he's been a shit Alpha himself."

Scott stares wide eyed at him, but he bulldozes on now that he's worked up about it, "I don't know nor care if he told you, but the last time I tried to stick up for you, I was told I'm not pack and to mind my own goddamn business, so no. Derek doesn't listen to me. Hell, it takes so much just for him to consider what I have to say before, even when he knows I'm right, because he doesn't trust me. I don't think I ever was considered pack to any of them, even after all the shit I've done for you all, so just in case you didn't get it, Scott, I'm going to stay out of the way from now on since I'm a such a _useless human outsider. _I know where I'm not wanted so I'm going to pretend to be normal again.

"I'm taking care of my dad and myself and no one else, and I'm _not_ going to lie to him again just to save your hide anymore. You and your werewolf problems are not my responsibility any longer because you have your pack and I'm no longer needed. I'm done with werewolves, so if you need help? You're on your own."

He turns away from Scott's huge puppy eyes, the hurt and betrayal in them stinging, but it's not like Scott's ever noticed it when Stiles feels the exact same way. "I thought you were my best friend."

He snorts derisively and sees red, whirling around to go off on Scott, "Don't you fucking _dare_ pull that bullshit with me, McCall. I haven't been your best friend since you started leaving me behind for Allison again and again, ignoring my texts, my calls, what I have to say, my fucking _warnings_. Even after you two broke up, Isaac has been filling in that spot nicely, hasn't he? With him around, you never even bothered to hang out with me, check up on me, or even spare me a thought unless you needed something from me, so don't go acting like you're the victim here. I'm not the one who ruined a lifelong friendship with his dick or his werewolf instincts. _Get a clue_."

With that he flings the door open, making Scott flinch when it bangs loudly off the opposite wall, and storms off to find Lydia, leaving a properly chastised Scott behind in the classroom feeling helpless and ashamed and alone.

Abandoned.

* * *

Rounding the corner, Stiles was just about the to head to the library when he was suddenly slammed into the lockers, Derek's trio of misfit betas crowding around him, specifically Erica in all her blonde leather clad glory.

"What did you do to Derek?" she hisses, her claws coming against his chest where she's got him pinned as the other two loomed behind her. "He went more berserk on us after you didn't come back to training last week!"

Stiles narrows his eyes and hisses angrily right back at her, catching them by surprise at his audacity to stand up for himself. Puh-_lease_.

"Oh, _Hell_ no," Stiles sasses at her, channeling Sugar Mama. He smacks her hand away from him too while he's at it. "Girlfriend be trippin' if she thinks she has the _right._ Uh-uh, honey. That don't fly."

He takes a step right in her face, his momentum picking up now that she's got the ball rolling, and in the back of his mind he is a little surprised that they actually all take a step back from him in the face of his angry tirade, but no time to think about that now.

He lets them have it.

"You think you can just come up in here and _demand _things from me now? Just like that, huh. Because I'm _human_. Is that right?" Stiles raises an unimpressed brow and snorts. "Well newsflash, tuts: for one thing, _my _world does _not_ revolve around _you_. And for another? I may be human, honey, but that don't make me helpless. Not by a _long shot. _Also don't forget: at one point? You were human, too.

"What, you think you all badass now that you have wolfy powers? Think again. You're nothing but a bunch of puppies compared to your Alpha; no self-control – a prime example would be fucking _hitting me with a part from my own jeep_ and putting me in a dumpster - so he has to clean up after you, not that I give a shit about whatever your Alpha is doing." He waves off flippantly.

"To answer your question, I didn't do a damn thing to him. If anything, I tried to defend your ungrateful asses against his training from hell and what does that get me? Abso-_fucking_-lutely nothing. Nothing from him, and certainly nothing from the likes of _you_. So? No more. I'm not even gonna bother with you anymore; no more research, no more food, no more help, no more Stiles. Figure it out for yourselves for once. I'm done trying to protect you when this is the thanks I get.

"Leave me alone, leave my father alone, and we won't have any problems. Keep in mind that I know your weaknesses. If I want you gone? I will make it so." Pulling out a spray bottle from his pocket, he aims the nozzle high and sprays the air between them just enough so the wolves can feel the acid burn of the special wolfsbane he's been messing around with thanks to a couple of Deaton's books, enough to make them cringe and whine before pocketing the bottle again with a 'hmph!' and with a snap of his fingers, he spins on his heel and struts away like a badass diva he is on his quest to find Lydia.

"Did he just-" Erica sputters.

"Was Stiles really-" A confused Issac says at the same time.

"-giving us a verbal smack-down via sass, sounding like my great aunt Trudie from Georgia?" Boyd finishes for them. "Looks like it."

* * *

Stiles stomps his way into the library and when he thinks this day couldn't get any worse, he sees Lydia with her arms crossed by their usual table with a guilty looking Danny standing next to her.

Stiles stops and groans out loud, ignoring the sharp look the librarian throws him as he makes his way over, "Don't tell me."

"I'm really sorry, Stiles," Danny rushes out, "She wouldn't let it go until she had everything out of me when I accidentally let it slip that I bumped into you last weekend."

At the sincere apologetic look in the other boy's eyes, Stiles sighs and his leftover anger deflates. "No worries, man. What can you do, right? Lyds is like a shark in the water when it comes to gossip," he jokes and Danny grins at him in relief. They bump fists.

Lydia sniffs, "You insult me, Stilinski," but her eyes are teasing before they get that same maniacal glint he saw in Dom not two days ago.

Dread starts to pool in his stomach. He knows that look. "It's not like I will go blabbing this information, either, so your secret's safe with me as well. Danny really is a good guy, and to make it up to you, he and I will take you shopping after practice tomorrow."

Stiles splutters and whines, "More shopping?"

At Lydia's raised eyebrow and Danny's vaguely amused look, he realizes he just walked into a trap and face palms.

"Spill," Lydia demands, so he does.

* * *

The rest of the day and the day after manages to go by without any more drama until it was time for practice.

Jackson suddenly decides to slam him against the lockers when he'd just finished changing and about to head out to the field, demanding to know why Lydia and Danny were hanging around the likes of a loser like him, and okay, really? That is _it_. He is so sick of the other boy's attitude.

Jackson is decidedly not prepared for the hard stinging slap across the face and the oncoming rant heading his way. Neither are Scott, Isaac and Danny who are the only ones still in the locker room as they all stare gobsmacked at a royally pissed off Stiles, who is shaking out his hand because slapping a werewolf in the face may not have been the best idea on his part.

"No. You want me to say it in Spanish?_ No_. Chu are not the boss of me, _chico_, so you better close that big ass trap of yours and deal with your social problems like a normal person _or so help me GOD,_ I will smack you silly! **Again**," Stiles throws the words out with the rapid fire speed of an angry latina, emphasizing his words with some harsh pokes to Jackson's chest, who is smart enough to take a step back from the fuming boy.

Move over Sugar Mama, 'cause Anita's coming through loud and clear, "_Wassa-matta-wit-chu_, huh? _Oh,_ my girlfriend and my best friend suddenly start to hang out with someone that isn't me, boohoo, I'm so _lonely_."

He scoffs in disgust.

"Cry me a river. You wanna know why they'd rather be with me? Well why don't chu ask them yourself, tough guy. _¡Ay,__ Dios mio!_ You really are just like a spoiled brat who doesn't get his way!" He flails in frustrations before squinting his eyes at Jackson, looking at him up and down with a raised unimpressed brow. "_How_ old are you again?"

Tsking, he's fed up and shakes his head in disappointment before marching off out of the room, an amused and mildly awed Danny following right behind him, leaving three stunned, bewildered werewolves in their wake.

* * *

After practice - in which Stiles totally throws himself into in order to vent all his anger and frustration and gives his teammates a run for their money while greatly impressing Coach Finstock - Lydia does as she promised and drags Stiles and Danny with her towards the jeep to head to the mall.

A couple hours playing dress up with them and several shopping bags worth of new stylish Lydia-approved clothes, shoes, and accessories for his _en homme_ wardrobe later, Stiles feels better and thanks them for the pick-me-up, dropping them off at their respective homes with a wave before driving back to his own humble abode.

He pulls up into his driveway and immediately notices the big black SUV parked a little ways down from his house. Knowing what that means, he purses his lips into a thin line at the offending vehicle and steps out of his own with his shopping bags in hand.

When he reaches the front door it opens just as he puts down his bags and reaches into his pocket for his keys.

Chris Argent stares at him for a moment before giving him a small smirk and a polite nod as he steps around the young man which doesn't fool Stiles for a second. He narrows his eyes suspiciously at the hunter which probably doesn't come off as threatening at all if the raised eyebrow is anything to go by.

Stiles points two fingers at his own unblinking eyes before swiveling them around to point them at Argent to silently convey 'I'm onto you, buddy, so watch yourself.'

The older man merely snorts in amusement but holds up his hands innocently in a gesture of peace before walking off towards his SUV. Stiles sticks his tongue out childishly at the man's back and carries his things inside, making sure to firmly shut the door and click the lock into place with finality.

"Hey, Dad, I'm home!" he calls out and finds his dad in the living room tidying up some plates and a couple empty bottles of beer.

The Sheriff was forced to take a mandatory month long vacation from his department since he's been working almost nonstop since his return. Needless to say, the Stilinskis are grateful and looking forward to some much needed family time.

"Hey, kiddo," John looks up and raises an eyebrow at the numerous bags that quickly surrounds the edge of the couch as Stiles plops down next to him with a sigh, "have fun?"

"Yeah...Lydia and Danny kinda went overboard."

The eyebrow rises to meet its twin. "Lydia? Lydia Martin? The same Lydia Martin you've been mooning over since kindergarten?"

Stiles scratches his neck, "Aha...yeah. She's kind of a friend now?"

"Huh. Well that's good, right?"

"Yeah, except in a twist of irony I don't exactly like her like that anymore now that we're BFFs. Such is my life," Stiles bemoans before he rifles through his bags. He nervously adds, "Actually, I don't think I like girls like that in general."

His dad doesn't miss a beat, "Oh?"

"Yeah."

There's a pause. "Huh. Well then," John mutters pensively and that was that, apparently.

Except it wasn't.

"That would sort of explain the red satin panties I found in the laundry this afternoon, but not really."

In the excitement of his dad's vacation, Stiles had completely forgotten about doing stealth laundry this week, normally washing things he wants hidden when his father wasn't home and therefore not needing to sneak around his own house in order to do it.

Now his secret is out.

Seeing the blood quickly drain from Stiles' horrified face, John quickly curls an arm around his son's shoulders and reels him in, kissing him on the top of the head.

"Hey," he says softly, "You know I'll always love and support you no matter what, right?"

Stiles just buries his face in his father's neck and throws his arms around his middle, croaking out a soft, "Yeah. But now I know you really, really _mean_ it."

"I love you, son."

"Love you too, dad."

* * *

They end up talking about Stiles' new hobby for a bit, how he rediscovered the joys of woman's clothing and some good old times from the golden days when his mom was alive to help him pick out a party dress for tea time, before Stiles hugs his dad one more time and hauls his things up to his room to put them away so he can get started on dinner.

He'd just hung up his last shirt when there's a knocking by his window, but even with the blinds drawn, he knew exactly who it is.

"Stiles."

He closes his eyes and rests his head on the wall, takes a shaky breath through his nose.

"Stiles, I know you're in there."

"Good for you."

"Open the window."

"No. Go away."

"_No._ Now open the window before I-"

"Before you what, Derek? Break it open? Oh wait, no you can't because there's mountain ash keeping you from touching the glass from the outside, not to mention my dad's home, but you already knew that too, didn't you _wolfy_?" Oh, the bitter sarcasm is positively _biting_ and he could feel more bubbling up inside him just waiting to spill out.

"Stiles," Derek growls in warning and normally Stiles would heed it, but not today.

"What the hell do you want from me, Derek?" explodes from his mouth.

He hears Derek shift before the wolf responds, "You weren't at the meeting last week."

He barks out a short laugh, "What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I'm not pack, just a _useless human outsider_, remember?"

"Stiles-"

"NO! You don't get to do this. Go _away_, Derek." Blinking back the moisture from his eyes, his voice cracks, "Haven't you hurt me enough already?" His resolve hardens as he furiously wipes at his eyes, "Just leave me alone."

There's a pause and then the shadow from the window slowly moves away as if reluctant to leave, before Derek disappears from the roof.

Knees weak from the confrontation, Stiles collapses onto his bed and curls up into a ball, not moving until his dad calls to him worriedly from downstairs and forcing himself into a semblance of okay before heading down.

* * *

'What have I done?'

Guilt weighs heavily on his mind as Derek swiftly makes his way back to his half finished house. Instinct urges him to turn back and comfort Stiles and beg for forgiveness but he shakes it off.

He'd hurt him and now Stiles didn't even want to see him.

The wolf in him whines pathetically as he keeps on running, just like he always seems to end up doing.


	4. Burgundy

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

The next day Stiles avoids the pack at all costs, not speaking to them, not sitting anywhere near them, not even looking at them as he pretends they're not even there. Though he does see from the corner of his eye that Isaac is staring at him longingly and whimpering quietly to himself from across the room while Erica is subdued and timid, and Boyd is trying to look small from where he's sitting in the back.

Jackson keeps his head down throughout the day and Scott looks lost.

He resolutely ignores them all.

By lunchtime Lydia takes one good look at him and sighs, "Oh, Stiles," before pulling him into a hug while Danny rubs at his back and neck in silent support.

After school, he skips lacrosse and texts the girls, driving down to Dom's place - a huge elegant French chateau on the richer side of Beacon Hills – once he receives directions.

When he pulls up the long winding driveway after entering the gate, Dom's huge manservant Leonard opens the door for him and takes his red hoodie to the closet as the ladies flock to their little fledgling in his time of need and hug the shit out of him before ushering him further inside the house.

Dom holds him and the twins coo at him in his new clothes while Sugar Mama and Anita whip up some comfort food in the kitchen.

Crystal and Amber cheer him up by telling him stories about their wild years in college and high school in the meantime.

As they all laugh while Amber finishes up a story about the time involving a banana and the captain of the football team, Anita hands him over a spoon and a bowl of _ropa vieja, _a Cuban beef stew, and Sugar Mama places a overflowing plate of dirty rice and some plump, juicy shrimp with a small dish cajun sauce in front of him on the coffee table.

He digs in with relish, moaning obscenely at the heavenly tastes and complimenting the chefs much to Anita and Sugar Mama's delight and everyone else's amusement.

When he's done and the plates are cleared away by Leonard, Dom looks him in the eyes and asks, "Do you want to talk about it now, _cherie_?"

The girls go quiet as he chuckles without humor, "Where do I even start?" He runs a hand through his short hair and doesn't meet their eyes.

"The beginnin's usually a good start, sugar," Sugar Mama says, her eyes gentle.

Stiles sighs, "I suppose it is."

So he tells them, tells them everything from the very beginning; from the time in kindergarten where he befriended a goofy boy with a mop of brown curls, to the moment his massive crush began on a strawberry blonde girl who grew up to become a genius femme fatale.

He skips over the werewolf bits obviously, but by the time he's done the girls know everything there is to know about him. They know about his Mom and how he loves her so much even more so now that she's gone, and his Dad who he loves just as much and how hard the Sheriff's been trying to keep things together and raising Stiles by himself all these years, how hard Stiles has been taking care of him in turn with his healthy meals for fear that one day his Dad will leave this world too soon as well, and how alone he'd be.

They know of what good a friend Lydia and Danny really are to him nowadays and how Scott is not, how his heart's desire had shifted to land on a tall, brooding older man with a tragic past and has the weight of the whole world on his broad shoulders.

There's a pause before Anita takes him into her arms and squeezes, "Oh, _querido_," she says, compassion in her ever word, "It's going to be all right, we'll make sure of it, right girls?"

A murmur of assent buzzes around the room before Dom claps her hands once in a decisive manner. "_D'accord._ So, we are going to need rope, a roll of duck tape, a box of chocolates-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Stiles flailed, "Just what are you planning on doing? Box of chocolates? Really?"

"You want your man, do you not?" Dom cocks a brow and places her hands on her hips.

"Of course I do, but weren't you listening?" his voice goes quiet, "He doesn't want me."

Dom's eyes soften, "_Cherie-_"

"No," Stiles holds up a hand and shakes his head, "I appreciate the offer, really, but no thanks, girls. I – I'll get over it. It can't be that hard, right?" He laughs weakly before clearing his throat, "Now can we please talk about something else besides my fail of a love life? Something less depressing?"

Thankfully, Cassie chooses that moment to ask him about what he's going to do for his routine in the competition and the conversation slowly flows from there as the girls shoot off suggestions left and right.

No one brings up Derek again.

* * *

When he gets home from Dom's, he greets his dad whose lounging on the couch.

"You got something," John gestures to a package - wrapped up in black wrapping paper with a big yellow bow and everything - with the remote before turning back to his game.

Stiles looks confused, "But I didn't order anything?"

"Yeah, about that," his dad begins as he makes his way to the package and sits down beside him, holding the box up to his ear and shaking it to see if he could guess what it is, "you mind telling me why Derek Hale showed up at our door today bearing gifts of all things?"

When Stiles doesn't say anything, John turns and sees him frozen in his seat, staring at the package unseeingly.

A minute passes without either of them moving, the sounds of the game continuing on in the background before John sighs and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "Why don't you open it?"

Nodding numbly, Stiles goes to unwrap it carefully with trembling fingers, so unlike how he usually tears into presents. "It's a shirt," he says in utterly bewildered awe, because it wasn't just any shirt, it was the exact same limited edition Batman shirt that had been ruined by that whachamacallit before everything went to shit.

He didn't know what to say.

Derek had remembered?

Ignoring his father's concerned look, he gathers his gift and makes his way to his room.

Collapsing onto his bed, he stares at the shirt some more.

What did this mean?

* * *

The presents don't stop there.

The next day when he gets home absolutely famished from lacrosse, his dad tells him there's a double bacon cheeseburger, a strawberry milkshake, and curly fries fresh from his favorite diner waiting for him in the living room courtesy of Derek.

When asked if Derek got the Sheriff anything, John just grunts in annoyance, "A Cesar salad, an apple and water."

Stiles doesn't know quite what to do with this new information but he couldn't help grinning like a loon in the face of his dad's displeasure at such a healthy meal compared to Stiles' greasy goodness, and at the fact that Derek took his concern for his dad's health into account when it comes to food.

After that, two tickets to a movie he's been dying to see but just hadn't had the time to go show up, again delivered to his dad for him to give to Stiles.

Then there are the first edition DC comic books - that must have cost a small fortune - all patiently waiting for him on the coffee table the night he came home from practicing his routine for the show.

If this is Derek's way of apologizing, it's definitely working to Stiles' chagrin.

The Alpha certainly knew the way to his heart, but he's not going to forgive the stubborn werewolf just yet.

He wasn't that easy.

...Okay, that's a lie, but he wants to see where Derek takes this, wants the wolf to work for it.

Stiles thinks he deserves that much, at least.

* * *

The weekend passes in a blur of free alcoholic drinks courtesy of Jake and more strutting in heels and lip-syncing for the competition.

On Monday it was business as usual at school, what with lunch with Lydia and Danny and the avoiding the pack; that is until practice that afternoon.

Almost everyone has gone home already and he's just closed his locker, preparing his backpack to head out as well when all of the sudden there's this weight resting in the middle of his back. Needless to say he starts pretty bad - and will deny that it was a squeak that left his mouth 'til his dying day - before attempting to whirl around to see the perpetrator, only to be stopped by two strong hands resting on his hips.

"Don't," a rough voice says and he stills, "Not yet."

"_Jackson?_" he asks. Incredulous doesn't even begin to describe what Stiles is feeling right now. Because really, _what?_

He waits a few seconds before slowly attempting to move again. This time Jackson lets him.

When they're face to face, there's only a couple inches of space between them and he notices the other boy is slightly damp from the shower, naked save for the towel wrapped securely around his trim waist. Jackson hasn't let go of his hips, releasing his hold only for Stiles to turn around.

"Dude," Stiles says in confusion, hands flying a little all over the place since he didn't know what to do with them. "Wha-?"

A whine stops him in his tracks and then Jackson is burying his face into his neck, sliding his arms around Stiles' waist in a tight hug.

"Uh."

Instinctively Stiles curls his arms around the other boy in return, one hand resting on the back of the blond's head as he stares in shocked bewilderment across the way at Danny, who catches his wide eyes. The goalie's eyebrows have shot into his hairline at the sight they made together.

Out of his peripheral, Stiles could see Isaac and Scott stop short as well.

"Hey," he says soothingly, running his long fingers through Jackson's ridiculously soft hair that was probably due to the expensive shampoos and conditioners he uses on a daily basis. "You all right?"

"Just...need to have you close," Jackson answers, muffled from his position against Stiles' throat.

Stiles blinks. "Okay?" he says and continues to hold the other, petting his head.

Eventually Jackson pulls away, his face pink in humiliation and wouldn't meet Stiles' eyes as he mumbles, "It's my wolf, okay? He wants you not to be mad at us – at me anymore."

Stiles leans his head down and try to catch his gaze, amber meeting shy blue.

"Sorry," Jackson whispers.

"It's okay," he murmurs, running a hand up and down Jackson's arm in comfort, almost unaware that he was even doing it.

"Not just for this. Last time too. Lydia and Danny talked to me about it." The co-captain looks down at his feet in shame. "I didn't mean it."

Stiles' eyes soften at the sight of the blond shifting his weight on his other foot like he's uncomfortable, the omega in the pack hierarchy.

He smiles almost gently at the other boy, "Apology accepted, dude."

Out of all of the werewolves and despite having been the first to be turned by Derek, Jackson's on the bottom of the food chain, and if Derek ever decides to expand the pack via the bite, Stiles suspects Jackson will always remain the omega judging by his increasingly submissive behaviorism.

Jackson hesitantly peeks up at him through his long lashes and bites his lip, "Really?"

"Mhm!" Grinning, Stiles playing ruffles the blond locks and cups Jackson's handsome face, thumbing the smooth flawless skin a bit and marveling at how Jackson turns into his touch before the other boy takes a step back, an almost embarrassed look on his face and clears his throat.

"Gonna go get dressed," he replies gruffly and then quickly stalks over to his things.

Stiles stifles his totally manly giggles, giddy all of the sudden, and looks over to see Danny smiling in satisfaction.

The goalie nods his head in approval, proud of his best friend. It was gonna take some work, but there's hope for Jackson yet.

No one noticed the disappearance of the other two werewolves as they slip out of the room, tails between their legs.

* * *

The following day after they've "made up" sort of speak, Jackson sticks to his side like glue.

Nothing too major sticks out, but there are some things that are definitely noticeable - little things like their knees touching under tables or a hand on the shoulder, an occasional squeeze on the arm.

But whenever they have different classes Jackson would look around quickly before leaning in close and nuzzling his cheek with Stiles, then walk off like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Stiles blinks, then shrugs.

Okay, so cheek nuzzles are a thing now. No biggie. He chalks it up to being a wolf thing and leaves it at that.

Lunchtime rolls around and Jackson convinces Danny and Lydia to drag him to the cafeteria to eat, the blond sitting next to him with Lydia across from him, and Danny across from Jackson.

Besides ignoring the glances from the rest of the pack, lunch goes rather well especially when Jackson shares his curly fries with him. Best thing ever.

* * *

It wasn't until the end of the next day when he is surprised yet again.

The trio silently corner him at his locker where he's switching books, scaring the bejeezus outta him when he turns around to see them all hunched in on themselves and shy.

Isaac clears his throat hesitantly as Boyd remains somber and Erica gives him kitten eyes.

"We're sorry we didn't appreciate you enough, Stiles," the pup says quietly, "We took you for granted, and we'd like to make up for it if you'd let us."

"Yeah, Batman," Erica adds while Boyd nods, "We miss you. And your cookies."

"Oh, I see how it is. You only want me for my cooking."

They shake their heads vigorously and at the sad, pitiful looks on their faces, Stiles could feel his resolve crumbling and resigns himself to the fact that he was never any good at holding grudges for long anyway.

Sighing and silently berating himself for not making it harder for them, he opens his arms and is surrounded by relieved werewolf cuddles on all sides.

"You guys owe me so big for the rest of eternity," he mutters, and the pups nod eagerly before Isaac and Erica starting talking over each other, trying to out-do each other about how they were going to make it up to him, each idea more and more ridiculous than the last as Boyd stays silent and enjoys his cuddle.

* * *

Two days later, it's evening and he's sitting at his desk typing up a paper due for English when he hears something hit his window. He pauses for a second and listens before slowly going back to work, only to hear it again.

It sounded like...small rocks? What?

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Stiles stands and makes his way to his window to peak out through his blinds. Baffled, he draws them up to see Scott standing under his window and the other boy waves up at him awkwardly.

Stiles crosses his arms as Scott reaches down beside him to hold up a...boombox?

"Oh my god, really?" he mutters to himself which makes Scott grin up at him briefly before he presses play and cranks up the volume. "Really_?_"

"**You're all I ever wanted**," blares out as the song starts, "**You're all I ever needed, yeah...****So tell me what to do now 'cause I, I, I, I, I! I WANT YOU BACK!**"

Stiles covers his face with a hand and snorts as Scott sets down the boombox and actually attempts to sing and_ dance the actual legit steps to the song_. At the same time. What even.

He purses his lips into a thin line, absolutely _not_ suppressing laughter that desperately wants to escape because he's not that easily swayed, dammit.

"**It's hard to say I'm sorry **

**It's hard to make the things I did undone **

**A lesson I've learned too well for sure **

**So don't hang up the phone now **

**I'm trying to figure out just what to do **

**I'm going crazy without you~"**

Here Scott points at him and continues on with his ridiculous boy-banding and Stiles is shaking from the effort to hold himself back.

"**You're all I ever wanted **

**You're all I ever needed, yeah **

**So tell me what to do now **

**When I want you back**

**Baby, I remember **

**The way you used to look at me and say **

**Promises never last forever**

**I told you not to worry **

**I said that everything would be alright **

**I didn't know then that you were right**

"Damn right you didn't," Stiles huffs.

**"You're the one I want **

**You're the one I need **

**Girl, what can I do **

Oh, the _irony_.

**You're the one I want **

**You're the one I need **

**Tell me what can I do  
**

**You're all I ever wanted **

**You're all I ever needed **

**So tell me what to do now **

**When I want you back!**"

Just Scott finishes with a flourish, the Sheriff pokes his head out of the door and looks at Scott - whose still frozen in his last dramatic pose - then in the direction of Stiles' window, then back at Scott again before slowly going back inside. "Don't wanna know, but you might wanna keep it down before the neighbors start to complain," John calls out but Scott could hear the underlining amusement in his voice, making his ears go red.

Finally, Stiles decides to take pity on the embarrassed werewolf and lifts his window to speak directly to Scott for the first time in over a week, "Are you calling me a girl, Scott?"

Scott nearly topples and whines pathetically, "_That's_ all you get from that? Seriously, dude? I worked hard on that!"

Stiles couldn't help it; he leans against the window heavily and gives in, letting out a snort before convulsing into pure, helpless laughter until tears threaten to leak out of the corners of his eyes.

Down below Scott flops down and cracks up too, rolling around in the grass like, well, a puppy - and don't they just make the craziest picture, laughing their asses off like a couple of hyenas in the fading sunset.

Wiping away a tear, Stiles finally feels himself calming down and breaks the line of mountain ash, "Ah, I needed that. Get up here, you doofus."

A huge smile splits Scott's face and in no time at all he tackles Stiles in the best, most awesomest bro-hug ever in the history of bro-hugs.

They cling to each other way past the time bros usually detach themselves, but Stiles thinks he deserves this. "You fucking idiot potato," he mumbles into Scott's shoulder.

Scott pulls away enough to look at his face.

"But I'm your potato. Right?"

It hurts him to see how hopeful Scott is about something so simple as that.

"Yeah–" his voice cracks so he clears his throat before trying again, "Yeah, you are."

Scott glomps him again. "I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, _so _sorry I've been, like, a giant douchie douchehead. The hugest, most ginormous asshat buttface ever, but it won't ever happen again. I'm gonna make it up to you Stiles I swear it will be the greatest thing ever and we'll play videos games after - in our boxers! And eat pizza all day 'til we're bloated and drink soda – just the two of us! - and it will be epic just you wait-"

Stiles simply smiles and holds him, letting his best friend ramble on and on about all the things they're going to do together.

It's nice not having to talk and be the one to listen for a change.

Things are finally looking up.


	5. Garnet

**A/N: Early update. Cuz I feel like it. :P I smiled like a loon the entire time I wrote the glimpse of Peter/Sheriff in this chapter, and I would just like to say that the Sheriff is a DILF, okay. Just. I love him so mu-huh-huh-uuch. D: Peter and Chris, who are also quite the lookers for their generation, are lucky to have him. 8D More feels. Enjoy?**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

Friday night John opens the front door, not surprised in the least to see Derek Hale standing there with his hands shoved in that leather jacket he's so fond of.

It's an almost familiar sight at this point in time.

"Derek." He nods.

"Hello, Sheriff."

Derek is staring down at their welcome mat like it was the most fascinating thing in the world and shuffles his feet a little, looking a lot like he had when he and his sister were brought to the station the day of the fire. Vulnerable.

After getting past the shock of seeing an ex-murder suspect at his door the first time - and getting over his previous suspicions after threatening to shoot him if he hurts his son - John feels himself softening over the past few days, his heart going out to the younger man, and speaks up, "Stiles isn't home right now. He's out with friends."

"Oh." Cue more awkward shuffling.

"No presents needing to be delivered today?" John asks, blue eyes kind. He found this strange courtship of theirs really quite endearing after Derek had stated his intentions.

Derek shakes his head, "Wanted to see if I could talk to him is all, sir."

"Well if you hurry, he just left. Maybe you could catch up with him, he's headed to Jungle."

Derek finally looks up, looking helpless and a little desperate, "Sir, please be honest. Do you think he'll give me the time of day?"

"You won't know until you try, right?"

Derek looks down again, broad shoulders slumping, "Yeah."

John leans in towards him a little. "I'll let you in on a little secret," he smiles, not be able to resist a bit teasing, "He didn't exactly throw away any of your gifts. In fact, I think I saw him in his new T-shirt when he came back from school today, so think on that on your way over, hm?"

Big hazel eyes look up at him not daring to hope, but... "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

John watches Derek book it towards his car, then closes the door and goes back to his seat on the couch, his good deed done for the day.

The doorbell rings again making him sigh - because of course it does when he's just about to get comfortable – and he gets back up to his feet to open the door once more.

"You need something else, Der-?" he cuts himself off, the words trailing into the air when he realizes it isn't Derek at the door, but someone else. Someone vaguely familiar.

"My," the stranger drawls, an attractive man in a fashionable sweater vest and slacks with slick brown hair. Curious roaming eyes give him a slow once-over from head to toe, making the slow heat of embarrassment he hasn't felt in a long time creep up on the back of his neck and he clears his throat self-consciously.

Apparently the man likes what he sees because those flirtatious eyes come back up and locks onto his own wary ones. "Chris didn't mention I'd be meeting the _Sheriff_." The last word comes off almost as a purr which leaves John feeling unusually flustered before a charming smile is thrown his way and he's offered a hand to shake. He slowly takes it. "My name is Peter, and it's a _pleasure_ to make your acquaintance..."

Peter doesn't let go of his hand.

* * *

Stiles is with the ladies just coming back to dress rehearsal from a dinner break at the Diner around the corner, which is owned and operated by Sugar Mama (Real name: Jeffrey Goldman) and her wife, the fierce firecracker Ms. Jackie - a tiny little thing with a fearsome personality and a big heart.

"Seeing Jackie again makes me miss having someone of my own," Anita sighs and Amber hums in agreement.

Crystal scoffs, "Not me, honey. I'm enjoying the single life."

"Crystal's last boyfriend turned out to a li'l_ loco_," Anita tells him in a low voice, but Crystal hears her anyway because Anita isn't exactly known for her subtlety.

"_Loco_? More like straight up psychopath," she snorts in derision, "I still can't believe I trusted him."

"Don't worry, babe. He's safely locked away at state for a good long while," Amber pats her shoulder before linking arms and going off on a tangent about these pairs of shoes she saw window-shopping the other day.

Stiles turns to the twins, "What about you two? Do you guys have someone special?"

"Mhmm!" they nod happily before digging out their Louis Vuitton pocketbooks to show him identical pictures of a tall blond blue-eyed marine in uniform. Stiles notes that he's very handsome.

"Caleb-kun is the best," Paula says.

"He takes good care of us," Cassie adds.

"He's out at sea right now - "

"But he's coming home soon!"

"Maybe in time for the show!" they squeal together.

He smiles at their excitement. It must be nice having a person like that in your life.

He wishes – but it's pointless.

"Stiles?"

Man, even just thinking about the man is making him start to hallucinate because he swears that he just heard Derek's voice. But that can't be true, right? Wow, he's already in so deep. Maybe he should see a professional about this?

He stops walking when he realizes the girls have stopped and turned to look behind him and – it hits him like a punch the the face. Ohmygod Derek is actually _here?_

He whirls around in his heels, _in his heels - dammit this is the first time he's seen the guy in, like, weeks and he's dressed in drag and ohmyGOD what is his life?!_

The werewolf in question looks struck speechless, taking in everything with those wide pretty green-grey eyes of his. Clearly he wasn't expecting to see Stiles in the black corset hugging his figure, or the frilly little dress beneath it, or the white thigh high stockings and the long blood red hooded cape settled over his wig and shoulders.

Guess the cub's outta the bag. Oh, hello jokes. You are so not needed right now.

A million thoughts zip through his head, the most prominent ones being _What is he even doing here in this part of town? _and _Did something happen to the pack?_ and _Shit, he knows! _and _What-am-I-gonna-do-what-am-I-gonna-do-whatamIgonna _**do**_?_

Panicking, he looks beside him to Dom for help.

Calm, steady eyes meet his, and it's like he suddenly know everything's going to be fine. Of course they are, how silly of him: he has Dom and the girls with him.

Stiles turns his head to see Crystal and Amber looking ready to rumble if need be, and the twins giving him two thumbs up while Anita and Sugar Mama nod their heads and give him reassuring smiles.

He takes a deep breath and Dom rests a hand on his shoulder, "We are right here if you need us, _cherie._"

Giving her a shaky smile, he takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders and sets his expression to neutral, however futile it is - because hello, _werewolf_, but it makes him feel better – and turns to confront Derek.

He crosses the few yards between them. "What are you doing here, Derek?"

He's expecting to see Derek stare straight at him and demand something from him like countless other times, but instead his eyebrows shoot up into his wig when the Alpha avoids his eyes and hunches his shoulders up to his ears, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Can we talk?" Derek mumbles, looking up at him with these wounded puppy eyes that could rival Scott's and Isaac's.

And Stiles knows he just lost the battle before it even begins. Because really? How is he gonna fight that face?!

Presses his lips in a thin line, he sighs as a front - though his heart is beating like crazy - and steps closer at Derek's prompting until he's in reaching distance.

"Well I guess it can't be avoided any longer," he mutters, knowing Derek could hear him. "Fine, I'll just start and get straight to the point then, shall I?"

Stalling a bit, he takes the time to straighten out his dress before crossing his arms under his fake chest and stating his piece, "I know it's not exactly a manly thing to say, but you really hurt me, Derek." He glances off to the side and swallows, "What you said, it just confirmed my deepest fears about my place in the pack, in that I don't have one and that I'm not wanted or needed; that I was always in the way, you know? Human and frail, a burden you had to put up with because you felt you had to in order to keep Scott in line, or to save your own skin."

A whine makes him look down slightly at the other man due to his heels, and Stiles is met with a pair of heartbreaking hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry," Derek gets out, and it was clear that this was difficult for him to say but Stiles could see sincere regret in every line of his body, "for what I said. It's not true. I was just tired and angry and frustrated with everything – the house, the pack not listening to me when I need them to, Peter disappearing every other night - and I took it out on you when you didn't deserve it."

"Well, you got that right," Stiles muses, maintaining eye contact, "but you know you don't have to deal with it alone anymore, don't you? They're not perfect, but your pack cares for you, and you for them, even Peter. Hence why you should probably go a little easier on them until they can handle it, hm?"

Derek nods. "You're pack, too," he says and looks down at his boots, "I never meant to say that you weren't pack, because you're not an outsider, and you're the farthest thing from useless; you're the glue that holds us together, Stiles. When it's a bad day or the full moon's around the corner and tensions are high, you cut it in half with your humor. You cook for the pack and clean the house even when it's half done, and take care of them without prompting. You take care of _me._ Without you, I don't know what to do."

Eyes wide, Stiles blurts out, "Wow, I think that's the most you've ever spoken to me in one go."

Derek goes on and mumbles, "I know it's too much to ask and you have every right to refuse, but," the werewolf runs a hair through his hair and looks up at him through the dark fringe of his lashes like a nervous little boy, "would...would you like to go out to dinner with me sometime? I want to make it up to you."

Stiles internally coos because Derek is seriously being unfair right now, acting all shy and adorable. The nerve. Suddenly he remembers all the gifts he's gotten in the past couple weeks, and bites his lip to stifle a smile. Derek's eyes zero in on it. "_Just_ to make it up to me?" he teases.

Those lovely kaleidoscope eyes slowly drag up his face, hazel bleeding into crimson red to meet mischievous amber, making Stiles shiver under such heated intensity.

"After that, my wolf wants us to court you properly, the traditional way," Derek rumbles, taking a step closer until they're almost touching, "We want you, in every way you'll have us." He hesitates a moment, "If you'll have us?"

Wanting to squash the hint of uncertainty he could see in Derek's eyes, Stiles places his hands on the man's shoulder and leans down until their noses barely brush against each other. "Dude, I was confused in my head, my heart, and my pants when I looked at you," he pecks the wolf's nose, "but I'm not anymore. You wouldn't believe how much I'd like that."

With a growl, Derek does what he's wanted to do since seeing Stiles in that dress. He takes hold of his hips and pulls him flush to his body, tugging the hood down so he could bury his face in his mate's neck. Because that is what Stiles is, his mate. '_Mine,' _his wolf purrs contently in his chest.

"Are...are you _purring_?" Stiles asks, surprised and delightedly so. His hands slide up to pet the soft hairs on the back of Derek's neck as he bares his own in response, making the rumbles even louder. It isn't anything like a cat's purr, more gruff and growly, but it's a pretty good canine equivalent.

He, Stiles Stilinski, is making Derek Hale purr. What even.

"Mmn, wolves don't purr," Derek snuffles his way up to an ear and gently tugs at it with his teeth, causing Stiles' knees to almost buckle.

"H-Hey! That's cheating," Stiles whines, but Derek could smell the beginning stirs of arousal wafting off of his mate.

"The lady doth protests too much," he deadpans, and Stiles stills against him. For a moment he's worried he took it a step too far again before Stiles starts to shake with laughter, snorting as he rests his head on Derek's shoulder.

"This is so not the time for Shakespeare, dude," but he's grinning when he pulls back to look at Derek and the wolf couldn't help but take hold of his chin and pull him down for a kiss.

It's sweet and chaste but leaves Stiles reeling.

"My, what soft lips you have," he says in a daze when they part and Derek smiles seductively.

"All the better to kiss you with, my dear."

"Promises, promises," he murmurs, breathless, and kisses Derek once more before pulling away reluctantly.

"Tomorrow at 8. Pick you up at your house?" Derek asks, squeezing Stiles' hands as they trail down the the man's broad chest for a feel now that he's allowed to, before Derek lets them slip away.

Stiles gives him a saucy little wink, "It's a date."

"Good," he says and leans in for another kiss, and another.

Kissing him one last time Stiles backs away, prolonging contact until the very last moment, and watches Derek slowly slip back into the shadows with that natural ease he's so good at exuding, their eyes never leaving each other until Derek disappears into the night.

He pulls his hood back up and turns to walk back to the ladies, not able to keep the grin off his face as he's bombarded by excited chatter and flailing manicured hands.

"Hubba hubba!"

"You lucky bitch!"

"Ooooh, _girl_! You did not tell us your beau is such a fine piece of _man_. Mm! What a hunk!"

"Your man is _muy caliente. _I bet he's an amazing lover in bed~"

"Rawr!" the twins growl, curling their fingers into playful claws.

Dom just smiles knowingly at him before ushering everyone inside, the girls singing their praises about Derek's hot bod as they all enter through the door.

Stiles looks back once to see glowing red eyes staring at him from the darkness before they blink out of sight and he ducks into the club to finish up rehearsal, excitement and hope bubbling in his chest. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.


	6. Vermillion

**A/N: Another early update because there's been a death in the family and I'm sad and I know that when I get notifications that you guys actually like the crap that spews out of my mind, it makes me feel better and I'm always happy to know that you guys are reading and enjoying the fic. :)**

**More Stackson in the chapter. And pack bonding times! :D**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

The next night has him in a towel damp from a shower scrambling around in his closet and tossing clothes left and right in a vain attempt to find something to wear, leaving his room looking like a fashion tornado had hit it with clothes thrown absolutely everywhere on every available surface.

He thinks he sees a thong hanging of his ceiling fan out of the corner of his eye.

Speaking of which, he doesn't even know if he should go _femme_ or _homme._ Panties or boxers? Boxer briefs?

Gah.

Normally, he'd have the girls or Lydia over to help him, but the girls all have prior engagements and Derek wants to keep this date between the two of them for now before letting the pack loose on their new relationship status.

Which Stiles isn't dying to update onto Facebook, still woefully proclaiming his 17-year long case of single-itis. Not at all.

His dad is no help because his dad isn't even home, having disappeared with Chris Argent again earlier that day.

Finally with a sigh of frustration, Stiles says 'fuck it' and decides the next thing he pulls out of his nearly empty closet will be the thing he wears.

He grabs a random item and pulls it off the hanger.

"Huh," he says to himself, "this is perfect."

* * *

An hour later, Derek rings the doorbell and Stiles greets him with a scarlet smile. "Hey."

Derek's jaw drops. "Oh. Uh. Hi." He swallows around the lump in his throat. "Wow. You look...really nice," he mumbles out lamely as Stiles adjusts the decorative cowl of his red sweater dress around his neck and fiddles around with a stray piece of hair from his wig.

Stiles beams at him, blushing in pleasure underneath his rouged cheeks, "Thanks! I picked this one out myself the last time I went shopping with the twins." He gives himself a hug and burrows in the soft luxurious cashmere for a moment before grabbing his small purse and locking the door. "Ready?"

Derek could only nod dumbly, still staring but he's at least capable of offering Stiles his arm and walking him to the camaro, his date's high heeled leather boots click-clacking away while his brain reboots.

Because damn, Stiles could work a dress; the belt cinches his waist and those boots showed off those shapely calves quite nicely.

Once in the car, Stiles takes a moment to rake his shadowed eyes up and down Derek's frame in turn, his gaze lingering on the man's clean shaven face and soft ungelled head of hair.

It makes Derek look deliciously younger.

Mmm. "You look nice too," he murmurs, fingers twitching with the urge to pet his face and bury themselves in those thick luscious black locks. "I like the plaid."

Derek looks down at his green plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Erica had once said it made his eyes pop, and he'd chosen his favorite pair of worn, comfortable jeans because this date is supposed to be casual. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." They share a shy smile before Derek pulls out of the driveway and takes them off to their secret destination.

Which turns out to be this cozy little Italian bistro just outside of town with the mostly heavenly smell of garlic and tomato sauce drifting out from the door and windows. Awesome.

Derek quickly pulls into a spot near the entrance and opens the door for him like a true gentleman, which gives Stiles funny feelings in his tummy. He's not a girl, even though he occasionally dresses like one, but he could get used to this kind of attention if it's from Derek.

Dinner consists of a huge plate of spaghetti made for sharing, a huge hit with couples that had put the bistro on the map, and it tastes as good as it looks and smells to die for.

The two swap stories about the pack's latest shenanigans and at one point it looks like they are about to reenact that famous Lady and the Tramp scene, before the noodle breaks and Derek glares down at their plate like it had just personally betrayed him.

Stiles melts at the sight of the big bad Alpha pouting and can't be blamed for his giggling, okay. It happens. Still totally a manly man here.

There's a bit of sauce at the corner of Derek's mouth and before he thinks it through, he reaches over and swipes it away with his thumb, absently popping it into his mouth to suck it clean. When his brain catches up with his body, his eyes go wide and find Derek's gaze on his mouth, the wolf looking hungry for a completely different reason.

A pretty blush takes over Stiles' face and he lowers his eyes demurely, taking pleasure in the low rumble he hears coming from Derek across the table. He looks up again in time to see the Alpha's eyes flash red and bites his lip.

Derek nearly groans. Stiles is such a fucking tease, and he doesn't even know it.

Afterward, Derek takes him to the finished Hale house for the grand tour, showing him every newly decorated and furnished room - courtesy of Lydia and Jackson, of course, because even thought they're currently off, those two are still a power couple especially when it comes to anything luxury - and ending it with a shy offer of any of the empty guest bedrooms. "The rest of the pack haven't even seen the house yet," he says, "You're the first."

It takes every bit of Stiles' willpower to not jump the Alpha and climb him like a tree, because seriously? He can't_ even_. And he says as much.

"I can't with you. I literally CANNOT with your, like, everything right now," Stiles huffs, annoyed that he's so _not_ at Derek's effective wooing capabilities. "Why are you so..._you_?"

At Derek's hurt look he's quick to fix the misunderstanding and takes a hold of that devastating face to give him a tender kiss, "Why are you so good to me?"

"Only the best for you," Derek answers softly, rubbing their noses together and kissing him once more before pulling him downstairs into the living room for a movie. Stiles doesn't have any complaints, because hello? _Cuddling_. With his very own sweet and sexy gorgeous Alpha werewolf badass to boot.

Score!

* * *

Stiles wishes the night never ends but alas, like all good things, it does. Derek holds his hand and walks him up to the door. He gently touches their foreheads together. "See you Friday?" Derek asks, green-grey eyes so close, open and content.

"Count on it," Stiles smiles, "I'll bring cookies."

The wolf snorts softly, "The pups will love that. They've missed you."

"I missed you all too," he murmurs. Derek nuzzles him and finishes their date with a slow and thorough kiss goodnight that leaves Stiles all hot and shivery before they part.

He waves to Derek as the werewolf gets into his car and closes the door, leaning against it as he hears the camaro roar off into the night, feeling giddy and deliriously happy.

Is this what being in love is really like?

* * *

The next night at Jungle the ladies quickly have him surrounded and demand deets.

He tells all with a dreamy smile on his face.

They coo at him.

"We are so happy for you, _cherie_," Dom smiles and Anita breaks out the champagne.

"To Stiles' hot mancakes!" the latina cheers, raising her glass, and Stiles laughs as the girls go wild.

* * *

At school, Stiles' life has undergone a complete 180. Thanks to the new threads and his recently discovered self-confidence, plus a little gel in his half inch hair, he's suddenly bringing all the girls (and boys!) to the yard.

He's currently rocking a maroon cable knit short-sleeved V-neck and some fitted dark washed jeans, with some brand new batman converse sneakers – and a hoodie jersey sweater to match! - that he'd been eying while window shopping which magically appeared on his doorstep that morning.

Being wooed is all kinds of win.

People stare and whisper as he walks by, some girls giggling and he gets a few catcalls as a few teammates from lacrosse shout out, "Looking good, Stilinski!"

He takes it all in with a nod and smile, feeling a little awkward, yet a lot awesome at all the attention.

Throughout the day the pack surrounds him and scents him, making sure he smells of them at all times to make up for past weeks: Scott throwing his arm around his shoulders; Erica, Lydia and a newly reinstated Allison – a test run for the pack if Stiles remembers what Scott was telling him correctly, after the beta practically begged and pouted until Derek gave in - taking turns looping their arms with his on the way to class; Isaac hugging him; Boyd and Danny giving his shoulder gentle squeezes; and Jackson taking the liberty of draping himself all over Stiles' back whenever the opportunity presents itself, because Jackson is a needy pup even though he won't ever admit it.

All in all, not bad for a school day.

Spotting Derek in the parking lot when school lets out, leaning against the camaro like some movie star bad boy where everyone can see him, is just a bonus.

Stiles lights up like the sun. "Hey!" he says and jogs on over, leaning in for a kiss hello when Derek tugs him closer by his belt, aware of the many envious eyes on them.

"Hey," the wolf murmurs back and rubs their noses together, big strong arms secure around Stiles' trim waist.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, 'cause I totally am, but what are you doing here? Did something come up?"

Derek nuzzles him. "No. I just couldn't wait. Wanted to see you."

"God," Stiles sighs out and just _melts _all over Derek's solid frame. "You can't just say things like that, man. Makes me feel all soft and gooey in the middle."

"Hm," Derek smiles and pecks him once, then reaches for his keys without taking his eyes off him and tosses them to Scott, who grins and walks towards the jeep where the rest of the pack splits between piling into it and Jackson's porsche. "Let me drive you home."

Stiles bites his lip at Derek's husky tone of voice and licks his lips, eyes hooded, "Okay."

Letting out a low growl at the sight, Derek couldn't help but kiss him again quick and dirty, before opening the door for him with a big broad hand placed low on his back as Stiles gets into the car.

Stiles looks out at his peers still idling in front of the school and staring at them while Derek comes around the front and slides into the driver's side, smirking and waggling his eyebrows before Derek peels out of the parking lot with the jeep and the porsche following behind them.

Tomorrow the rumor mills are going to have a field day.

* * *

Before dropping Stiles off, they pull up to Stiles' favorite diner and the pups all tumble out of both cars as Derek opens the door for him.

"Thanks, handsome," he gives a cheesy wink and Derek hums before stealing a quick kiss and ushering him inside.

They all squeeze into a circular booth near the back: Boyd at one end, then Erica, Isaac, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Danny, Derek, Stiles and then Jackson at the other end.

They're served menus and after ordering their food and drinks, their chatter breaks off into smaller groups, though anyone was welcome to join in; the girls talking about the latest gossip going around school, fashion and future shopping trips, while Scott, Isaac, Danny, and Jackson talk lacrosse and other sports related topics with Boyd listening in and commenting once in a while.

Stiles turns to Derek, the Alpha seemingly relaxed as he lets his pack's words wash over him with a rare contentment. They were all finally coming together and he's going to make the most of it and enjoy it. Stiles smiles at that.

It dims slightly though when he realizes the pups don't know about Scarlet and the ladies at Jungle aside from Lydia and Danny. Derek obviously knew as well, but he wonders how they'll take the news.

As if sensing his change in mood, the pack starts to simmer down and Jackson lets out a quiet noise of concern, being the closet one to him. The blond leans in for a cheek nuzzle in hopes of comforting him but Stiles turns his head at the last moment and a pair of soft parted lips touch another for a brief moment before they instantly jerk back.

Any conversation that was going on, dies right on the spot.

Wide blue eyes meet stunned amber before Jackson immediately turns to his Alpha, afraid of the older wolf's ire.

Stiles does the same, but instead of looking angry, Derek looks...thoughtful. The Alpha meets his omega's frightened blue gaze, his own eyes shifting from red to green before settling on red, and lets out a low sub-vocal rumble from the bottom of his chest.

Stiles gulps. That shouldn't be so hot, but _damn_.

Jackson lets out a tiny whimper under his breath and bares his throat instinctively, closing his eyes when he feels a clawed finger slowly give the side of his throat a single stroke. He hesitantly opens his eyes back up when Derek hooks that finger under his chin and makes him hold his Alpha's stare.

A moment or two passes, then Derek..._purrs _for lack of a better word, and strokes the blond's cheek with the back of his fingers. He settles back in his seat as his other hand comes up to give the back of Stiles' neck a gentle squeeze, before sliding down the boy's back palm open - a clearly possessive gesture - to rest around his waist once more.

There a beat of silence, before Lydia pointedly clears her throat and says to Erica, "So, you were talking about that bustier you saw?"

That snaps the others out of their daze and conversation resumes as if he and Jackson hadn't accidentally kissed and Derek didn't _just_ caress Jackson's face and neck. And because such is his life now, Stiles writes it off as a wolf-thing.

Soon after their orders arrive but before they dig in, Stiles decides to say 'fuck it' and speaks up, "Hey, guys? I, uh, have something to tell you."

Derek, Lydia and Danny don't look surprised but everyone else looks up from their plates at that. "What's up, bro?" Scott asks.

He clears his throat nervously, shooting Derek a smile when the Alpha gives him an encouraging squeeze around his middle. "So, here's the thing. I met some new friends down at Jungle a few weeks ago and they convinced me to enter a competition, of sorts. I was wondering if you guys wanted to come."

"Competition?" Erica raises an eyebrow.

Stiles grimaces and rubs the back of his neck, "Yeeeaaah."

"What kind of competition?" Isaac chimes in. Boyd blinks at him, mildly curious.

"Er, well it's...the, uhhh...it's..." he sighs and tells himself to suck it up, " it'sJungle'sannualHalloweenDragShow," he blurts out in one go, and even with supernatural hearing, the wolves still had trouble deciphering Stiles-speak.

All except Scott that is, having years of practice under his belt.

"Drag?!" Scott's voice cracks when it goes up in octave in surprise. He blushes and ducks his head when the others shush him for being a little louder than necessary.

"Huh," Isaac muses, blinking guileless eyes at him, "When is it?"

"Uh, next Friday," Stiles mutters, carefully taking in the pack's reaction.

Boyd looks unfazed by the news, giving Stiles a nod to say that he's in, Isaac and Jackson seem interested though the latter was trying not to show it, and Allison gives him a smile and a thumbs up.

Erica looks dangerously gleeful, "Stiles is gonna be a drag queen? Wouldn't miss that for the world."

He didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he'll take it.

Scott looks like he's slowly coming out of shock, no apparent disgust or horror in sight though he does appear confused, "Wait, does that mean Stiles is gonna wear makeup and stuff? Is that what I've been smelling? I always thought it was because you were with Lydia all the time."

"Yes," Derek speaks up unexpectedly beside him, leaning in to nose behind his ear, "and he looks stunning."

That brings a pleased albeit embarrassed flush to Stiles' face.

Allison and Erica perk up. "Really?" the brunette giggles and claps her hands, "Oooh, I can't wait!"

"You've already seen?" Erica whines to her Alpha. Derek chuckles, making the pups stare at him in shock because Derek doesn't _do_ laughter. Or so they thought.

"You do your own face?" Lydia asks, impressed. Stiles nods. "Glad to know someone taught you how," she says in approval, "though I will reserve my final judgment until I see for myself."

"He does makes a pretty lady," Danny adds. Jackson huffs jealously.

"You too?! No fair!" the blonde bombshell pouts, before viciously attacking her burger.

Stiles laughs, a weight off his chest now that his secret is out, relieved to know that the pack has his back and are even looking forward to this weekend, "Don't worry, Erica. You'll see me soon enough."

Scott turns to him, "Do you like it?"

Stiles smiles softly, thinking of his mom. "Yeah, I do."

Scott beams at him then, "Then I'm in!"

Isaac joins in, "Me too."

"It's gonna be amazing," says Danny, "It is every year, but I have a feeling this year especially."

He playfully winks at Stiles, making the boy laugh. "Yeah, you know it!"

They spend the rest of time bantering back and forth and stuffing their faces, no morsel going to waste, because hello! _Werewolves_.

At one point Stiles sees Jackson watching him eat with a strange intensity, even offers him a curly fry thinking he wanted some starchy goodness - which makes Scott pause because in all his years as Stiles' best friend he's never ever since the other boy share his fries voluntarily with _anyone_, not even him – and the blond takes it. Right out of those long fingers he's been eying. With his mouth.

Scott is rightly disturbed by how much he really _isn't _at the sight. Beside him Allison's smile dimples, having learned werewolf behaviors to an extent, and Danny grins down at his plate. Lydia hides hers behind her smoothie and the pups blink owlishly.

Then Erica and Isaac pout childishly in envy. Boyd slowly raises an eyebrow.

Stiles in the meantime takes no notice, too busy staring wide eyed and gaping at the omega before slowly offering up another fry.

Jackson smirks, his eyes hooded, and takes the time to lick the salt off of Stiles' fingers, sucking off the traces of ketchup from them after eating the fry. It's obscene. And really rather hot. "Thanks," he says casually, blue irises glowing softly as his wolf wriggles in happiness and preens under the attention.

"Uh huh," Stiles says in a daze, swallowing a little, "no problem."

He turns back to his plate robotically with the intent of demolishing the rest of his food, all the while his mind is going _dafuq just happened...?_

Inexplicably, he finds himself stealing a quick peek at Derek only to see the Alpha's red eyes already on them.

Jackson moves closer to him then and hooks his chin onto Stiles' shoulder coyly, making quite the picture for Derek. Those red eyes narrow in thought. He makes a small wolfish sound in the back of his throat, almost as if seeking permission, and a low rumble erupts from his Alpha. Approval.

The pup yips happily and burrows his face into the crook of Stiles' neck.

Stiles' hands flounder a little.

Dafuq just happen?! Did he miss something? Because there's obviously something to be missed here.

Stiles could feel Jackson smiling into his skin as he watches Derek watch them with appraising, almost proud, eyes.

_Wolves._ Seriously.

* * *

He gets his answer on the way to his house. "Their wolves recognize the Alpha's intended," Derek intones, "that's why they've been turning to you recently."

"Oh," says Stiles, "Is that why the pups looked all scared and cowed when I went off on them?"

Derek nods, "Essentially you will become a second Alpha to the pack due to your status as Alpha-mate, but where I as head Alpha deal with the physical aspects concerning the pack, the Alpha-mate mostly handles the pack's emotional side of things."

"Mate?" Stiles mumbles out, turning his head in time to see Derek grip the steering wheel tightly.

Shit, he was going to tell Stiles all about mating after their courtship.

"Yes," Derek grunts out. "If you so choose. Usually after courting, the intended gets to decide whether or not the wolf courting them is worthy."

Stiles tilts his head. "Don't wolves mate for life?"

Derek spares him a brief but pointed stare, "Yes."

"Forever, huh. I figured," he muses and turns to look out the window, a slow grin stretching across his face. After all, he did do his research after receiving that very first gift. "So that means you're stuck with me for eternity, right? No take-backs? Because, _hello?_ Have you looked in the mirror lately? I'd be crazy to turn down the sexist, sweetest, most adorable Alpha to ever Alpha-ed. Worthy? _So_ worthy, dude. Are _you_ sure you want...well," he gestures to himself, "_me_?"

Derek's grip relaxes, relieved to sense how accepting and enthusiastic his mate to-be is. "Yes. You're the one I want, Stiles, the only one my wolf needs. You're everything both sides of me could ever ask for," his white knuckled grip returns, "but that doesn't mean you have to accept me. If at any time you feel uncomfortable or don't want it anymore...you can always say no, okay? I don't want you to feel pressured-"

"Are you kidding me?" Stiles exclaims with a ridiculously pleased grin, because all that hot hunk of werewolf right there in the driver's seat? Yeah, that's all going to be his. "I couldn't think of a better man to wolf-marry," he says before pausing. "Wait. That means I'm pretty much officially stuck as den mother now, doesn't it?"

A small smile tugs at Derek's mouth, "You already fit into the role quite nicely."

"Oh shut up, you just want to see me in the kitchen with an apron, you heathen."

The smile morphs into a filthy smirk. "Guilty. And preferably naked under that apron."

Stiles goes wide eyed and pink in the face at the mental images that immediately come to mind, and judging by the flared nostrils and flashing red eyes, Derek can smell where his thoughts were heading, and likes it. A lot.

"Well!" his voice cracks and he clears his throat awkwardly, "duly noted."

A few moments pass in relatively compatible silence before Derek notices Stiles stewing over something else.

"What is it?" the Alpha asks.

"That doesn't really explain Jackson," Stiles replies.

"Jackson is the pack omega, which means his wolf is the most submissive. It's natural for him to seek out protection from his Alphas where he feels the safest, in the case the rest of the pack get rowdy and try to bully him into doing their bidding." Stiles remembers reading that a good Alpha never abuses their power to dominate, and always takes care of the needs of those under their leadership, especially their omegas.

"Ah, okay. That makes sense." It explains why the blond has been so...affectionate with him.

"It's also because Jackson genuinely likes you too."

Stiles squawks, "R-Really?" Wow, and here he thought the blond was only trying to curry his favor in exchange for pack immunity.

Derek smirks, "Yeah. I could smell it on him when he was all over you."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

A soft, sexy growl rumbles out of Derek, "Not at all. You're both pack." _You're both mine_, he doesn't say but Stiles turns a soft pink anyway as if he'd heard the unspoken words.

"Ah. Duly noted."

They all pull up to his house and Scott parks the jeep in it's usual spot in the driveway. The pups get out as Derek and Stiles do the same with the camaro still running.

The betas plus Allison all bid Stiles goodbye with hugs and kisses and squeezes to the shoulder before the trio get into the camaro and Scott and Allison join Danny and Lydia in Jackson's porsche.

Stiles waltz right on over to the driver's side and taps on the glass, smiling when Jackson rolls down the window with a curious look on his face.

He takes hold of that handsome face and brings his lips down to kiss the corner of Jackson's mouth, pulling away before the blond has time to react to rub their noses together, then lets go completely and takes a step back. He winks at Danny and laughs at the face Scott makes while Allison giggles like a little girl behind her hands and Lydia smiles deviously.

Jackson's trying to maintain his look of nonchalance but Stiles could see right through him, could see him try contain how shocked and elated he feels. His Alpha's mate has just returned his affections, after all.

"Drive safe now!" Stiles calls with a jaunty wave as he walks back towards Derek.

The Alpha smiles at him and pulls him close for a kiss, "You do know that from now on, you'll have him following you around like an actual pup, don't you?"

Stiles lets out a dramatic sigh, "Oh the hardships of being me." He does a hair flip.

Derek laughs and Stiles shut him up with another kiss.

* * *

That night Stiles finally updates his Facebook relationship status to "in a relationship" at last.

The entire pack 'likes' it.


	7. Alizarin

**A/N: *rises like a zombie* I LIIIIIVE! **

**Sorry about the wait, ran out of pre-written stuff and my muse deserted me yet again. RL hasn't been kind either, but! I finally banged this one out! Aren't ya glad?! 8D**

**SMUT FINALLY YEY!**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, threesomes, moresomes, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

Friday comes and goes and with it October's full moon.

The pack meeting turns into a movie night after frolicking in the woods to tire the wolves out and gorging themselves on pizza and Stiles' super-special-awesomely-delicious chocolate-chip cookies of melty-ooey-gooey-goodness (title and patent pending).

By the end of the night, Stiles finds himself in the middle of an epic cuddle-fest, tucked neatly in between Derek and Jackson. The Alpha is spooning behind him protectively with a beefy arm around his waist while the pup curls up against his chest with his head under his chin, Isaac draped over the omega as the rest of their pack lying close by within touching distance.

The next week flies by and even though they're all excited and have been waiting for the day, Halloween sneaks up on them.

After school, Stiles rushes home in order to prepare. He showers and shaves, making sure to get everywhere smooth and sleek. He applies moisturizing lotion that smells like apples all over his body and pulls on his favorite satin red bra and panty set with the black lace and matching garters. Then he rolls up his white stockings, shivering as the brush up against his sensitive skin, and squirms his way into his Little Red costume.

The doorbell rings when he's just finished zipping up the dress and his dad calls from downstairs, voice strained, "Uh...Stiles? You have some visitors."

Oh, crap.

Stiles rushes down the stairs, nearly tripping and face planting when he spots Dom, dressed as Queen Cleopatra, gently patting his dad's bewildered face as the rest of the ladies coo at him from behind the tall caramel Egyptian goddess.

"Now I see where Stiles gets his good looks from," Anita, all dolled up as a sexy devil, smiles and wiggles her finely plucked eyebrows flirtatiously at the Sheriff.

John flushes.

"And pardon me for being too forward, but what I would like to know is why a_ fine_ gentleman like you is doing all by your lonesome," Sugar Mama adds in her fabulously shimmering flapper dress.

"Dom!" Stiles squeaks out, "What are you ladies doing here?"

"To help you get ready, _duh_," says Vegas show girl Crystal, chewing on her gum and blowing a bubble.

"But I don't need help!" he huffs, "Cassie and Paula showed me how not to mess up my eyeliner and everything last week!"

They ignore him. "Be a sweetie and get your make-up kit, pumpkin. Time to paint your face on!" cat-Amber claps her hands, claws clinking together daintily. "Chop chop!"

Meanwhile, his dad is attempting to sneakily creep away up the stairs but the twins latch onto him before he could escape.

"No, no, Stilinski-san must watch! It's tons of fun!" the two geishas tell him and drag him to the living room.

John shoots his son a look that's clearing screaming SOS but Stiles just shrugs, because if he has to suffer through this, so does his dad.

He goes to fetch his kit plus the rest of his things he needs in order to get ready, and by the time he returns to the living room, his dad is sitting in the middle of the couch blocked in close by Anita and Dom, face red with his hands folded in his lap.

Stiles groans, "Girls. Stop teasing my dad."

Dom chuckles as Anita pouts, "Spoilsport."

John hides his face in his hands.

"All right, enough fun and games," Dom relents, "Time to get to work."

* * *

He ends up doing all the work himself with minimal coaching from the ladies, _told you Crystal._

After some finishing touch ups, he adjusts the hood over his wig and slips into his satin red ruched heels trimmed in black lace, turning to the room. He spreads his arms to the side, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Well?"

There's a pause as everyone soaks in the sight of him in full costume, taking in every detail from the top of his head to the tips of his shoes. It being the first time seeing Stiles in a dress since he was a tot, John steps up to him, eyes suspiciously wet with a nostalgic smile curving his lips, "Your mom would be so proud of you, kiddo."

"Daaad..." Stiles brings his arms down and sniffs a little, "you're gonna make me cry, okay. Stop that. It's humiliating. Also, I don't want to redo my mascara."

His dad hugs him tight which he returns just as strongly, and buss his forehead with a kiss, "Knock 'em dead."

"Well, if that isn't just the most precious thang," Sugar Mama sighs to Anita as the twins smile jubilantly. Amber hands Crystal a tissue so the tough broad can dab at her eyes to make sure her mascara isn't running.

"Just got something in my eye," she grumbles but they all knew better.

The doorbell rings just then and Stiles looks at his father, confused. "Are we expecting someone?"

Dom, being the closest, answers the door. Her eyebrows go up, and she gets the same reaction from their new guests. "Ooh la la~"

Stiles cranes his neck to try and see, "Who is it, Dom?"

His dad coughs, embarrassed, "That would be my dates."

Stiles does a double take and almost gives himself whiplash. "Date? No wait, _dates?_ As in plural?" He notices for the first time that his dad is wearing his good slacks, the ones he only wears for special occasions, and a perfectly pressed blue button-up. Let's not forget the fancy dress shoes. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

Dom takes that moment to step aside and Stiles jaw drops. Because really?!

Dressed in similarly semi-formal clothes, Chris gives him a half smirk and Peter waves at him from the doorway. The smarmy bastards.

Chris raises a brow at Stiles' outfit as Peter lets out a low whistle, "Looking good, Stilinski." Stiles isn't sure which Stilinski he's talking to, and by the looks of it, neither does his dad.

Awkward.

"He totally did that on purpose," Stiles mutters.

"Yeah, he does that," his dad sighs, but clasps his shoulder, "We'll talk later, Stiles. Have a nice night, okay? Take pictures!"

"But Dad! Chris and Peter?! Do you know-" he cuts himself off, horrified, "You don't even_ know,_ do you. _Shit!_"

"Language," John say automatically. He sighs again, "Look, Stiles. They told me everything."

Stiles' eyes go wide. "Everything?" he asks weakly.

John nods. "Everything." His blue eyes soften, "We'll talk later, okay? Are we good?"

Stiles gives him a lopsided smile, and hugs his dad one last time. "Yeah, dad. We're great. Have a good time. Or try to at least."

Peter sniffs and places a hand over his heart, "You _wound_ me, Stiles."

"I'll do a lot worse if you don't treat him right," Stiles threatens, shaking a fist at him.

Peter's laughing eyes turn serious, "You have my word."

Stiles blinks, surprised. He didn't know how good a word that is yet, but judging from that, he's tentatively approving and will take what he can get. He turns to Chris and points two fingers at his own eyes before pointing them at Chris. Like before, the hunter raises his hands in a gesture of peace, all with that damnable amused smirk on his face.

"We'll look after him, Sheriff," Amber pipes up, "Now you go have fun! I know I would."

The ladies catcall and wolf-whistle as a red-faced John goes to greet Chris and Peter.

Just before Dom shuts the door for them, Stiles could see Chris leaning in close for a kiss hello and Peter's hand sliding down and goosing his dad, making him jump. Stiles scrunches his nose because ohmygod, _ew_. Why.

Anita sighs forlornly, "What I wouldn't give to join in on all of that hot man action."

"Ohmygod!" Stiles flails, "No, ew, stop. That's my middle-aged father you are talking about here. I don't need the mental trauma!"

"But he ages so well! Like a fine wine," Dom muses teasingly.

"Dom!" The girls laugh at him as he pouts before helping him clean up and gathering their things, making sure to leave candy out in a large bowl with a "Please take two!" sign on the porch for trick-or-treaters.

"Show time, girls!" Dom calls when they're ready to go and the ladies holler, ushering Stiles out the door.

* * *

Derek and the pack show up to Jungle just as the night is in full swing. They walk right up to the door and the bouncer takes one good look at the them before he lets them in without a fuss.

The Alpha lets his pups loose once they're inside - giving Jackson a quick cheek nuzzle when the omega sidles up to him, and a playful little slap to the ass making the pup yelp just as Lydia tugs him away to dance – and then is immediately on the hunt for Stiles, looking to see if he could catch a glimpse of his mate before the show begins. He knows he's near, an innate sixth sense helping to guide him through the sea of bodies and noise and flashing lights when sight and sound and smell fail him due to the sheer number of people who showed up tonight.

He closing in on where he thinks Stiles might be when he runs into a stunningly gorgeous Cleopatra.

Heavily coal-rimmed eyes meet his straight on.

"You must be Derek," the sensual French accent easily slides over to Derek's ears over the music and something about that has the wolf suddenly on edge. "I am Dominique. Stiles has told me quite a lot about you."

"I could say the same," Derek replies cautiously and Dominique's smile is full of teeth.

"Come, we have things to discuss," the Queen says and leads him to a relatively quiet area that will provide a little more privacy.

"This is about Stiles," he states bluntly, not beating around the bush. It's not a question.

"Correct," the other nods, getting to the point, "When I found him, he had so much potential. Not just for fun and silly drag shows such as the one we are having tonight, but bigger and better things in the near future. I took him under my wing and shaped some of that potential and for that, Stiles is almost like a son to me. He iz special. You will do well to remember that."

Her eyes flash with something otherworldly and Derek's hackles rise. His own eyes bleed to red in response, fangs itching to break free through his gums before he unclenches his jaw and takes a deep breath.

This is one of Stiles' friends who is only showing her concern, supernatural creature or not. It wouldn't do to cause a scene and upset his mate.

Dominique watches him calm himself down with almost approving eyes, like a parent. "Take care of him, wolf."

Derek gives a curt nod, "I will."

Dominique's smile is now soft, almost motherly, "Come," she says, leading him to meet the rest of the ladies, "The show is about to start."

* * *

Stiles is backstage, mentally preparing himself for what he is about to do. He's one of last acts to go and the queen ahead of him is just finishing up her routine.

Soon he hears the DJ announce his stage name and then the howling intro of a dark, sultry remix (thanks Danny!) of 'Little Red Riding Hood' by Laura Gibson starts to play through the club speakers.

He takes a deep breath, letting go of Stiles and embracing Scarlet as she opens her eyes and smiles, thinking of Derek.

Show time.

* * *

The music begins and curtains part to reveal his beautiful mate, and Derek could feel his wolf start to salivate, crimson irises greedily drinking in the sight of Stiles – no Scarlet in all her glory.

Amber eyes hone in on his own brightly glowing orbs through the darkness, and Scarlet's face lights up the room. She smiles, just for him.

"**Hey there little red riding hood," **she sings to him, slowly stalking down the catwalk,

"**You sure are looking good**

**You're everything a big bad wolf could want."**

* * *

"**What big eyes you have  
The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad  
Just to see that you don't get chased  
I think I oughta walk with you for a ways"**

She sings and twirls and dips and bends provocatively, slinking confidently from one end of the stage to the next on those hot little heels of hers as the crowd goes crazy and howls along with the song.

Across the room near the bar she could see the florescent yellow and neon blue eyes of the pack watching her while their Alpha's intense red gaze never leave her form from his seat by where she knows the ladies are also sitting and cheering her on.

"**Little red riding hood  
I'd like to hold you if I could  
But you might think I'm a big bad wolf so I won't**

What a big heart I have  
The better to love you with  
Little red riding hood  
Even bad wolves can be good

There's a stripper pole in the middle of the stage and she sashays in time with the music, giving it a naughty little grind and flashes the crowd a little as her dress rides up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin and silk and lace.

**What full lips you have  
They're sure to lure someone bad  
So until you get to Grandma's place  
I think you oughta walk with me and be safe..."**

The music comes to an end. She curtsies and gives her audience a saucy wink, blows a kiss before slowly spinning on her heel and sauntering off stage.

Behind her the crowd roars, her pack the loudest of them all.

* * *

She takes a step into the club from backstage and is immediately met with fans of the performance.

"That was so hot," one guy says, his fairy wings gleaming under the strobe lights.

"Yeah, I really liked the different approach you took with yours," says another dressed as a merman, "The music was an excellent choice, definitely fits the vibe you got going on, girl."

"Totally," the third says, a scantily clad cowboy.

Scarlet smiles, "Why thank you! I'm glad you boys enjoyed it."

The three proceed to compliment her costume, the merman severely impressed to know it was handmade by Sugar Mama while the cowboy asks her about her shoes, that is until they suddenly fall quiet and Scarlet senses a familiar presence behind her.

Two big hands take hold of her hips and a broad, solid body presses right up against her back, a nose moving into her hood to lightly scent the side of her face. She moans a little and bares her neck for him in response.

"Hey, Little Red," the newcomer rumbles. Scarlet shivers.

Turning around in his arms, she coyly smiles up into wild crimson eyes.

"Hey, Big Bad," she murmurs back, smiling. "I like the ears." She fingers the soft fuzzy appendages that blend in shockingly well with his raven hair. She peeks over his shoulder, "Ooh, and you even have a tail to match!"

"Erica," he grunts then nudges her to face him and hooks a finger under her chin, dragging her into a sloppy little kiss that leaves her panting.

Nipping at his bottom lip in retaliation, she gets a low growl in reply.

"Holy shit," the fairy exclaims.

"Fuck, that's hot," the cowboy groans, holding onto his hat.

Merman seems flushed. "_Daaamn_."

"Hm..." Big Bad purrs deep in his throat, nuzzling her close. She giggles and pets his chest. "If you all don't mind, I'm going to steal this one away for the rest of the night." Red eyes flash open and stare the three down unblinkingly.

They shake their heads frantically.

"Not at all!"

"Go right on ahead."

"She's all yours!"

"Damn right she is," Big Bad growls.

"Now, now. Play nice," Scarlet scolds, pout softening when her wolf kisses her temple in apology. She smiles at the three. "Forgive him. He gets jealous easily."

Big Bad gives them a toothy, positively wolfish grin, fangs glinting.

"Sure thing."

"Not a problem."

"Nope."

Scarlet lets herself be pulled away, calling out with a friendly wave, "Hope you boys enjoy the rest of your night!" before she disappears into the crowd with her hulking werewolf Adonis.

The three stare after them with open mouths for a moment before looking at each other.

"Well, fuck."

"Hot damn."

"That lucky bitch!"

* * *

Derek crowds him up against a wall the first chance he gets after they manage to snag one of the private rooms upstairs courtesy of Jake, who had handed Stiles the key with a knowing wink and a "Go get 'im, girlfriend!"

He'd blushed and dragged a rather handsy Derek – who at the time had been preoccupied with mouthing the side of his neck like he couldn't get enough - up the stairs as fast as his little red heels would allow, an Alpha werewolf firmly attached to his backside.

Now Derek has him right where he wants him, pinned in place with his hands clenching the lapels of his signature leather jacket and rutting helplessly against a sturdy denim clad thigh, the wolf's nose buried in his neck and breathing in great big lungfuls of _mate_ and _home_.

"Derek," Stiles moans and bares his throat further, face and body growing hot with arousal when he feels Derek slide a big warm hand up his skirt, caressing the soft smooth skin of his thigh with the barest hint of claw.

"You shaved."

"Ah – hn! - the girls m-made me." He whimpers a little when Derek hitches his leg around his waist and cups his bottom in both hands, pressing him further into the wall with a slow torturous grind of his hips. Fuck, that's hot; so he has a thing for being manhandled. Don't judge.

A nose is pressed to his temple. "All over?"

Stiles smiles and bites his lip when Derek's growl deepens, "You're just going to have to find out and see, aren't you?"

"Guess I am," Derek murmurs, "Gonna be a good girl for me then?"

A shiver goes straight down his spine and Stiles lets out a soft keen, "_Yes_." He wants to be the best girl for his Alpha, wants to be Derek's girl.

Red eyes flare up in the dark when Derek takes a deep breath through his nose and smells just how much Stiles wants it, how much he wants to be good. "Mm, the things I want to _do to you_," the wolf whispers savagely beforeswooping in and devouring Stiles' mouth for his own.

"_Mmh-_" Stiles moans, undulating his hips, wanting more; he needs _more_. "Derek," he begs.

He jumps when a finger traces the edge of his panties under the curve of his ass, callous catching on lace before Derek is suddenly _down, _hiking his dress up to his waist and rumbles deep in his chest at the pretty picture of Stiles' cock twitching, trapped beneath red satin.

"Beautiful," the wolf growls and pushes his face into the apex of his mate's thighs, inhaling deep. "So beautiful, baby girl."

Stiles blushes, squeaking in surprise when Derek mouths and licks at him through his panties, whimpers high and needy, knees weak as the wolf rubs his scruffy cheek against his cloth covered cock. _God_, how he _wants_.

Two claws trail up his legs to hook into the sides of his hiphuggers and slowly, oh so slowly begin to drag them down, leaving faint red lines that stand out against Stiles' light smooth skin. Derek takes the time to unclip his garters and resumes relieving Stiles of his underwear before reclipping them in place - because they're sexy as fuck on Stiles' pretty twink legs - and stuffing the panties into his pocket with a naughty glint in his eye.

Stiles gulps, blushes deeply, and bites his lip.

"D-Derek," he starts but doesn't get to finish, "Ah!" His hands fly into soft black hair when he's slid up the wall, Derek burrowing further in between his thighs and maneuvering past his legs until they're resting on Derek's shoulders and he's off his feet completely, red heels resting against the Alpha's broad back.

Derek groans. "Mm..."

A startled noise leaves the boy as Derek cradles his ass in his hands and a warm wet tongue licks Stiles from root to tip in one broad stripe, making him squirm against the wall before he's arching sharply, a loud gasp leaving his open mouth when Derek suddenly swallows him whole without preamble. The man just couldn't wait any longer; he needs a taste. _Now._

"Derek!" Stiles' legs kick out at the air in uselessly.

The Alpha growls around his mouthful and Stiles can't stop _shaking_.

"_Please,_" he cries, hands holding Derek's head in place as he thrusts desperately into the hot tight vacuum of Derek's mouth.

Derek takes him easily and a choked little moan escapes him when the wolf swallows again. And again, and _again,_ his dick painfully sensitive to the moist, constricting channel of Derek's throat.

Derek groans hungrily, high off the sight and smell of his mate absolutely losing it. He fondles the ass in his palms, squeezing and massaging and teasing at the rim with a finger tip until Stiles is all but sobbing for release.

At this rate Stiles' not going to last much longer, not much at all.

"Derek-" he starts to warn breathlessly but Derek just hums, and then suddenly there's a dry finger rubbing firmly at his hole and he is going, going..._gone_. "_**Derek!**_"

Back bowing, he cums long and loud, but Derek's waiting for him, suckling greedily until Stiles is left convulsing in spurts against the wall as he slowly comes down from his sex high.

"Mmh, you _animal_," he slurs as Derek pulls off of him with a wet indecent 'pop', "Fuck, I think you broke me."

Derek doesn't say anything; just licks his lips shiny, smirking that fucking sexy smirk of his and rubs his scruff all over Stiles' inner thighs like a big territorial cat, leaving red scratchy patches on his skin before looking up at his mate with lidded, simmering red eyes.

Stiles coos and pets him adoringly, "Was it good for you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

Derek softly snorts, letting Stiles' legs slip off before gracefully rising to his feet before slinking up Stiles' body to capture his lips for a filthy little kiss. "You were such a good girl for me, Little Red," he says, nosing his mate's face affectionately, "so pretty and responsive. My perfect baby girl. I loved it."

Stiles blushes but makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and smiles coyly, "I'm glad, Big Bad. Heh. That rhymed!"

Derek rolls his eyes fondly.

Stiles laughs, "My orgasm was five out of five stars, FYI. Must definitely do again, preferably some time soon."

Derek smiles devilishly.

Stiles' hands drift down to Derek's zipper, gently ghosting over the straining erection confined in its denim prison. He looks into those glowing pools of red, blinking innocently, "Now what about you?"

"Hmm," the Alpha narrows his eyes before he carefully unhooks the red hood and lets it drop to the floor beside them. He's leans close, whispering low in his ear, "turn around for me?"

Stiles doesn't even have to think about it; he immediately obeys, bracing himself against the wall and pushing his ass out without prompting which pleases the wolf to no end.

"Good girl," Derek croons, making him moan before the man's down on his knees once more looking positively _ravenous_. "Spread your legs for me."

Stiles blushes but does as he's told.

Derek flips the dress up and out of the way, takes a moment to appreciate the bared ass in front of his face and couldn't help but give it a quick smack. He smirks when Stiles yelps and wriggles from the delicious little sting, and frames Stiles' bum in his hands, starts to massage the soft supple flesh in slow circles.

The boy's moaning softly and he continues to squeeze and fondle him before Stiles shudders and goes limp, letting the pleasure wash over his senses.

Stiles couldn't stop the embarrassing noise he makes when Derek pushes his cheeks apart with his thumbs and gives his hole a long teasing lick, his dick taking renewed interest in these recent events.

"D-Derek..." Leaning further into the wall, he arches his back and sticks his ass out for more of whatever Derek is willing to give him.

The wolf growls in approval, taking the hint, and eagerly buries his face into Stiles' crevice.

Stiles whines high and needy as Derek eats him out, pushing back into Derek's face as his own grows hot with renewed arousal.

Wet sloppy sounds are heard and Derek groans deeply, sucking at his hole, circling it with the tip of his tongue. He gathers as much spit as he can before plunging it straight in with a slick _'shulp'_.

Stiles bites his lip and keens as he rocks his hips back and grinds his ass into Derek's face. He feels stubble brushing against his sensitive skin, shivers 'cause it feels so good, and imagines what he'll look like in the morning. Not that he's complaining. Not at _all_.

"Derek!" he cries out suddenly when Derek digs his teeth into the meat of one butt cheek before the wolf's honing in once more, jabbing his tongue into his hole with quick little flicks at the end, then goes back to circling and sucking at his rim again. Stiles' legs are trembling, trying to keep himself standing as Derek is slowly, deliberately trying to drive him out of his goddamn _mind_.

His cock is now up and raring to go once again, but Derek ignores it for now in favor of making love to his pucker with that wicked mouth of his.

When he starts to think he's going to cum again untouched just like this, Derek pulls away all together in order to stand, the meanie.

He whines in protest at this new development, "Dereeek!"

Derek spanks him, making him mewl.

"Hush," says Derek, that hot voice all dark and rumbly and doing things to Stiles that makes him squirm in place as Derek unzips his pants and pulls out his dick.

"Please," he whispers softly and Derek growls low, jacking himself a couple times to get his dick wet with precum before moving in to press up tight against Stiles' supplicating body, big warm hands spreading his cheeks apart again and dick sliding against the crack of his ass.

"Look at you," Derek murmurs, "All hot and bothered, just waiting for me to eat. You. Up." He punctuates each word with a hard thrust against Stiles' hole, making it sloppy, and relishing in the noises his boy is making.

"_Yes. _Please, fuck me," Stiles pleads, tilting his head when Derek nips at his ear and bares his throat for more. So vulnerable. So trusting.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Stiles," Derek says then, smirking when Stiles sputters in his arms, "Not here anyway, not tonight. I made a promise to your father to wait. At least until our courtship is over."

"Oh my god, dude, are you for real? I can't believe you; don't ruin the mood by talking about my dad," Stiles groans, then yelps when Derek's hand slides around front to pull at his fully hardened dick.

"Oh, I don't know," Derek says conversationally, "seems like you're still in the mood to me."

"Dereeek!" Stiles whines petulantly, thrusting his hips back to feel the slippery slide of Derek's cock in between his cheeks, "You bastard, stop being a tease!"

He pouts when he hears Derek laughing under his breath. "Well if you aren't going to bang me, just what are you going to do then, oh Alpha, my Alpha?"

With his wolf rumbling happily at Stiles' acknowledgment of his status, Derek presses in close and noses his cheek, gripping his hips firmly, "Just because I'm not going to mount you right this second, doesn't mean I'm not going to claim you, make you _mine._"

"_Hngh, _well when you put it that way-" Stiles cuts himself off, a distinctly whorish moan rising out of him when Derek pulls back a bit and fingers his wet hole.

He couldn't stop himself from grinding back onto Derek's hand as the man starts to fuck him with his fingers, slick with spit and precum. "A-ah, Derek-"

"Can't wait to fuck you for real," Derek confesses in a low throaty voice, "Mmm, I'd do it properly too, hold you down and make you _take it _like a good little bitch until you're sore and full and beg me to stop."

He goes hot all over. "Hnh, Derek _please,_" he mewls, body wanton, "So close."

"Yeah, that's it," murmurs Derek, "Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum for your Alpha."

"Ahn-!" He does as he's told and releases all over Derek's hand, the wolf catching all of his cum in his palm and brings it up to his mouth.

Derek catches his gaze and licks his hand, eyes flashing red and Stiles whimpers pathetically, dick trying valiantly but only manages a small twitch.

"Total _animal_," he slurs, then keens in the back of his throat when Derek grabs his own cock still covered in Stiles' cum.

The wolf starts to jerk off, Alpha red eyes still holding Stiles captive as he beats his dick off unceremoniously until he finally tosses his head back and cums with a snarl, striping Stiles' ass and the back of his thighs in white, sticky ropes.

"Fuck, that shouldn't be so hot," Stiles breathes, licking his lips, wanting a taste.

"Mmm..."

Derek's purring again which just tickles Stiles to no end and the wolf starts to rub his cum into Stiles skin, almost willing it to stay there permanently so his mate would smell of him and them together at all times.

Stiles chooses not to comment. He's discovering just how kinky werewolves can be. Maybe it's an Alpha thing, or even just a Derek thing. Not that he's complaining. Not at _all._

* * *

Sadly, they're eventually forced to find a nearby restroom, which is thankfully attached to the bedroom with a bed they didn't even get to _use_ - Stiles pouts over this as Derek chuckles – and clean up.

Stiles is glad to see that the beard burn on his face wasn't too bad and his make up was still on point. His neck on the other hand looks like it got mauled by a wild animal, which it did. He laughs and Derek shoots him a unimpressed look like he knows what he's thinking.

When they're relatively decent, Derek grabs Stiles' hood from the floor and with a flourish, drapes it back onto his head and shoulders.

"Show off," he teases and Derek shuts him up with a kiss before they head back downstairs.

He tosses the keys back to Jake who notices the marks and hickeys and gives him a playful cat-call of "Ow-ooow!"

Laughing, he tugs Derek off to find the pups, only to discover after a quick scan of the club that the ladies had found them first.

Dom and Anita have Danny (dressed in an awesome glow-in-the-dark Tron suit) and Jackson (a dashing period vampire) in between them, the French femme fatale pinching Danny's cheeks and crooning over his dimples as Anita gushes over Jackson's cheekbones.

Sugar Mama is regaling the trio of Olympic gods with a enthralling story judging by their faces, and she even manages to pull a smile from Boyd (Zeus) as Erica (Aphrodite) and Isaac (Hermes) howl with laughter.

Lydia as Poison Ivy is talking shop with Crystal and Amber, trading tips and tricks and shopping secrets while Scott (Robin III) and Allison (Hawkeye) are with the twins, who flank a tall broad blond man dressed as a shirtless sailor, a sailor's navy blue collar trimmed in a white stripe tied around his neck and jaunty white sailor's hat sitting rakishly in his short blond spikes. His muscular arms are snaked around the twins, big broads hands resting low on their hips. That must be Caleb.

Amber spots them first, "Well, well, well~! Look what I dragged in!" she exclaims gleefully, curling his hand under her chin and swiping her paw in the air, "Meeeow~!"

The ladies holler and the pack joins in as Stiles blushes and sticks his tongue out at all of them 'cause he's mature like that before leading Derek to an open leather chair seemingly reserved for them. He sits the wolf down and plops right onto his lap and gets comfortable, an arm around Derek's shoulders. He wiggles happily when Derek curls his own possessive arm around his hips, one sneaky hand slipping under his dress to caress the bare skin of his thigh.

His panties were still tucked away in Derek's pocket and he takes unholy glee in that knowledge.

Derek rumbles contently, nosing at his neck, before allowing himself to relax in his seat.

Dom eyes them appraisingly, "You are just in time,_ cherie_. Intermission is almost over."

"Our time has come, girlfrands," Sugar Mama announces, "Let's show 'em how it's done!"

The ladies go crazy as their music starts and they stand, clearing a path to the stage.

The pack gathers around Caleb to watch and cheer them on, and Derek hides his grin in Stiles' wig.

"**I put a spell on you,"** he sings along into his mate's ear, **"and now you're **_**mine...**_**"**

Stiles gives him a beautiful smile and wraps himself around the wolf like an octopus, kissing him wholeheartedly.

* * *

The ladies take a bow and the crowd gives them a standing ovation.

"Give it up for Jungle's Queens as they reign supreme once more!" the DJ cheers, "And now, it's time to announce the winners of this year's Halloween Drag Show Competition."

The crowd hushes as he pulls out a sealed envelope and opens it, taking out the card stock within, "Let's see here..."

Clearly his throat, he says next, "And the winners are...In the Professional Division: the Gemini twins, Cassie and Paula!"

The crowd whoops and claps, their group the loudest as the twins squeal and glomp Caleb, peppering kisses onto his face as the marine squeezes them tight, so proud of his girls.

They leave him with one last hug and skip off to the stage to take their crowns and sashes and flowers and envelope with a check inside.

The DJ finishes clapping and reads off the next name, "In the Standard Division: Ms. Cellanius!"

Loud applause rises as the Queen of Hearts takes to stage and waves at the crowd like a proper queen would, hilariously pompous air and all, much to the crowd's amusement. She winks at them before scampering over to the twin geishas, hugging them congratulations.

"Annnnnd last, but certainly not least," the DJ pauses dramatically before calling out the final name, "The winner of the Dabbler Division: Miss Little Red Riding Hood herself, Scarlet!"

Stiles gapes, not believing it even as the ladies and the pack descend on him in excitement and the crowd screams and howls, Derek standing behind him as a wolfy pillar of support throughout it all.

They all urge him up toward the stage, the Alpha right there with him as he accepts his crown and his prizes from the former winner of last year's competition.

"Kiss!" someone shouts, and before long the whole crowd is chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Who was he to deny what they want?

Turning to Derek, the Alpha merely raises a brow at the mischief curling his mouth before fondly rolling his red eyes at him and pulling up to his chest, hand on his ass and dipping him dramatically for a long open mouthed kiss much to the crowd's delight.

Why not indulge and give them a show while they're at it?

"Woohoo, steamy! Anyways, here are your winners for this year, folks!" the DJ announces, which breaks them apart. The twins and Ms. Cellanius drag them into a group hug. "Thank you to all the lovely ladies tonight for the spectacular show, but now it's time to PART-AY!"

The crowd cheers. Time to get their groove on!

* * *

They spend the rest of the night dancing away, Jake being awesome behind the bar and plying them all with alcohol, which was hysterically ironic seeing as the man was dressed up like a police officer, though he makes sure they don't go too overboard.

The pack finally has the chance to congratulate him on the win with jubilant hugs and kisses before he's swept away onto the dance floor, shimmying and gyrating with all of his friends. He even got Boyd to slow dance with him at one point. Total win.

As the night wears on, he finds himself in the middle of a blond werewolf sandwich, Isaac hugging him from behind with his face buried in his neck and Jackson all pressed up his front and making out with him, their strong arms wrapped around him holding him steady.

He pulls back from Jackson with one last lick to his fangs and leans back on Isaac as they sway together, taking in the flush highlighting Jackson's cheeks, his wet swollen pink lips, and glowing blue eyes.

The omega presses his face to Stiles' neck opposite Isaac and Stiles pets his hair, the other hand resting on the back of Isaac's thigh under his toga.

He looks up, meets heated red eyes staring at him from across the dance floor, and hums happily.

_Win._


	8. Sanguine

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, threesomes, moresomes, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

The night is cool and brisk, and Stiles rubs his hands together before shoving them into the pockets of favorite red hoodie.

It's been a couple weeks since the competition, fall slowly turning over to winter.

Stiles still often keeps in contact with the ladies on a regular basis, going out to see them a few days a week either at Jungle or the Diner or their own homes, and usually the pack is in tow for at least one of those days to dance and party or just to hang out and watch a movie (or makeover parties. Which ever comes up first).

It's quickly becoming Stiles' favorite thing, his Queen friends and his pack all in one place having a good time, especially when they're at Jungle.

Stiles and Jackson - having bonded and gotten closer over the greatness that is Lydia Martin, lacrosse, pool, and strangely enough strawberry twizzlers - have taken to dancing together a lot of the time, gaining more that just a few appreciative eyes on them when they sway and grind their hips together erotically, two sexy little twinks pressed up all close and personal, wrapped up in each other's arms and sometimes making out playfully (Because friends like them make out all time, right? Right.) in plain sight of their typically brooding Alpha. They make it known too, if the coy smiles they shoot his way from across the dance floor are any indication.

The two have this little game to see how long it will take Derek to come and join them, the grumpy wolf not liking to dance but can move quite well when he has to, like when an interloper who doesn't know any better approaches his boys with a greedy look in his eye.

The Alpha usually scares any trespassers away though, much to the amusement of Jungle's regular patrons like Jake and the ladies. Stiles and Jackson will trade secret smirks, succeeding in getting the older man to dance with them at least for a little while.

* * *

It's been a couple weeks and Stiles' crown and sash are placed high on a shelf in his room at the Hale house, glittering merrily in the light of the full moon.

He's currently outside in the wide open backyard of the Hale house and pulls up his sleeve to check his new expensive custom-made Batman watch that had been sitting on his desk that morning (Jackson's apparently taking a page out of his Alpha's book).

"They back yet?" his dad calls, coming out of the grand open kitchen through the sliding door with two steaming mugs of coffee, black and strong just how the Stilinski men like it.

"Not yet," Stiles replies, taking the mug handed to him, "Thanks, Dad."

"Mhmm," the Sheriff nods, and they both take a sip.

"Ahhh," they sigh out at the same time, their breath fogging up in front of their faces in the cold night air.

"So," John starts, "Werewolves."

Stiles nods, taking another sip, "Yep. Werewolves."

His dad hums, "Is Derek still showering you with gifts?"

"Yep," he says, popping his 'p' at the end, "I think it's a bit of instinct, you know? In the animal kingdom, males court their potential mates by showing that they can provide for them; food, shelter, and protection from rivals and enemies. In the modern human world, a lot of it translates to fanciful things money can by." He takes a breath and gulps down more liquid caffeine goodness.

His dad nods, "Makes sense."

"Mhmm. Why just today, I got a new watch from Jackson. I think he's following in Derek's footsteps." He flashes the watch at his dad.

John whistles, having learned all about omegas among other things from Peter's explanations on werewolf society. He squints a little, spotting a little crown about the stylized Batman insignia on the watch face. "Wait, is that a Rolex? Wow."

"Yeah I know, right? I almost tripped and sprained something when I saw the box. You?"

His dad snorts, "You do that every day." He ignores Stiles indignant squawk, "Anyway, Peter's 'gift' to me was upgrading my wardrobe when he found out I haven't really gone out shopping for myself since the 90's."

Stiles grins, "Oh man, I can only imagine how appalled he was when he found your acid washed denim jackets, neon trainers, tweed suits and jorts."

His dad lets out an affronted noise, "Hey! I'll have you know I was the hippest trend setter in my day. Peter only cried in despair a total of one time after going through my closet, and then _I_ cried when he dragged Chris along and took me out to the nearest fancy men's boutiques. Not to mention we ended up scouring the entire mall on top of that." John gulps down some more coffee. "And what the heck are jorts?"

"Jean shorts, dad. Keep up with the times."

John shakes his head and mock-sniffs, "Kids these days. No respect."

"Whatever, old man," Stiles ducks away laughing when his dad takes a half-hearted swipe at his head. He grins and straightens up with a thought. "Hey, out of curiosity, has Chris taken Peter's lead and get you anything special?"

"Chris took it upon himself to upgrade my gun cabinet."

Stiles stares, "Seriously?"

John smiles dreamily, "Yep."

"Oh my god, of course he would," he groans, palming his face, "Guns = protection. Why didn't I see that coming?"

John chuckles.

Father and son drain their mugs as they talk werewolf mating rituals, and just as they set their empty cups down onto a nearby patio table stocked with the necessary items for a night such as this (fluffy towels, bottled water, large Tupperware containers...), laughing about nesting and den making, there's rustling in the bushes and soon emerge their wayward werewolves, grisled and covered in blood.

The dark towering figure of Derek's Alpha form looms closer, Peter in his beta form not far behind him, before the Alpha shifts his hulking shoulder and carefully drops his heavy burden in front of Stiles. Beside him, Peter does the same.

It's a stag, an impressive 14 points by Stiles' count, it's throat cleanly sliced through resulting in a quick and painless death. Peter's kill is an older full grown doe that looks like she had lived a good while and must have not been able to keep up with her herd before Peter took her down. The once-insane wolf wasn't so cruel as to take one of the younger does who might have fawned that year.

"Ah," is all Stiles can say as his dad's eyebrows raise into his hairline before both Hales are changing, Peter's face smoothing out as Derek shrinks down to normal size, fur receding to reveal sleek naked skin.

Glowing wolf eyes stare at their respective mates expectantly.

John takes that as his cue to speak up, "Well, it looks like we'll be eating venison for a while. A good time to cook up some burgers and steaks then."

Stiles turns from staring at the dead animal in front of him and glares at his dad, "Your diet doesn't allow venison."

"Oh come on, son, it'll be rude if I don't eat at least some of it," John wheedles as Stiles crosses his arms stubbornly.

He opens his mouth to argue but is distracted by blood covered muscles heading his way. Did he mention that Derek's totally naked? Because he is, seeing as transforming into his full Alpha form doesn't allow for silly things such as clothing. It'll only tear off and get in the way anyhow.

He's thankful that Peter and the rest of the pack prancing around in the preserve are wearing some shorts or at least their skivvies.

Mindful of the blood, Derek takes Stiles into his strong arms, crimson eyes gleaming while Peter stalks his way towards John.

Supernatural cerulean meets soft worn blue, and Peter lets out a low purr when John quirks a smile at him and cups his face in a broad calloused palm. The oldest beta leans and nuzzles into it, kissing the meat of John's thumb and nipping playfully. His Sheriff chuckles.

* * *

Suddenly a gunshot cuts through the stillness of the night not far from where they stand idle.

The two wolves simultaneously let out a lip-curling snarl and slip back into their more feral natures, taking off towards the sound inside their territory and so close to the house.

Father and son trade startled looks before running after them.

They reach a small clearing and see Peter shift back before running over to Chris, who looks a little worse for wear. John hurries over to them.

Stiles looks to Derek who is still in Alpha form sniffing and inspecting a very much dead mountain lion of all things with his lupine snout, a clean bullet hole through the side of its head.

Chris gestures to it with his rifle, "Not a deer, but it'll do."

"Show off," Peter grumbles but there's clear relief on his face.

After fretting over him and looking for injuries, John punches the hunter in the arm, "Don't do that to me again, you ass. Courtship traditions be damned, it's not gonna work if the one doing the courting is dead."

"Ow," Chris smiles tiredly, "I just got into a fight with a puma, old man. Gimme a break."

John shakes his head in exasperation but pulls him into a kiss. Peter purrs delightedly and nudges his way in too.

Stiles makes a face, gagging a little - because ew, no - and looks away as Derek lumbers over to him.

"Hey, big guy."

The wolf gently snuffles his mate with his nose, one huge five-fingered paw coming up to curl around the back of Stiles' thigh.

Stiles feels a silly smile pull at his mouth and returns the nudge, rubbing his face against the soft fur of Derek's forehead and hugging the wolf's head to his chest. A hand reaches up to play with one of Derek's pointed ears, his eyes barely making out the wolf's tail slowly wagging back and forth behind all that furry bulk as he gives Derek a good ear-scritching.

Derek whines and nuzzles closer for more.

"You're so cute," Stiles coos, "like a great big gigantic puppy." He laughs at the unimpressed look on Derek's wolf features, before sputtering indignantly when Derek licks his face. "_Gah_-bleh!"

"Jerk," he pouts. Derek pants in his face open-mouthed and licks him again.

"Wah! Bad Derek, bad wolf!" Stiles tries to bat him away.

Not heeding his mate's complaints, Derek tackles him then into the grass and attacks him with wolfy kisses.

"No, down boy-_hey!_ Not the hair!"

* * *

They head back to the house after Stiles gets Derek to stop licking and pawing at him, the boy now perched up on top of Derek's back as they bring up the rear.

Peter has the mountain lion thrown over his shoulder like it's nothing, his unoccupied hand intertwined with one of Chris' while John is on the hunter's other side, walking close with an arm around his back.

The three men make a strange but admittedly kind of cute sight together, though Stiles will never admit it to them. Ever. He doesn't need to give Peter any more ammo to use against him in the future, that is if his dad hasn't already with stories from his childhood.

He shudders. Oh, the horror.

Once back in the yard, Peter sets the puma down away from the deer.

It's to be cleaned, stuffed and mounted, and will make quite the handsome hunting trophy indeed, fit to sit guard by the fireplace in the living room of the Hale house where John wants it, because it certainly isn't going back to casa de Stilinski. "It will fit better here, with the forest so close by and everything," the Sheriff points out, "besides, where the heck would I put it at my place?"

Chris makes a mental note to call the taxidermist later tomorrow.

Behind them, Derek throws his head back and howls for the pack to return to base.

It was time to feast.

* * *

The pups all coming running back out of the bushes, all glowing iridescent eyes and toothy grins, Lydia, Danny and Allison not far behind them.

Derek turns back into a man, plucking the sweats his mate's father threw to him out of the air and slipping them on for the moment. He pets Jackson's head when the omega comes near before the blond bounds off to rub up against Stiles.

The boy laughs and ruffles Jackson's hair affectionately. Then Isaac tackles Jackson with a growl and they're tussling playfully in the grass. The two roll to a stop with Isaac on top and Jackson whimpers before baring his throat to the beta.

Isaac yips and nuzzles the offered neck, licking softly before they pick themselves up to stand by the others, though they stay huddled together.

Stiles internally melts, because seriously, those two are just too cute.

With the pack surrounding them, the wolves restless and hungry, Derek and Peter crouch down and plunge a clawed hand into their kills, still warm and fresh, and pull out the heart; a delicacy among their kind.

The two Hales stand and present their gifts to their intendeds, gaining tentative approval from each Stilinski. They carefully slice into the organs with a claw and cut out the most tender portion to feed to their mates as tradition dictates.

John looks grim and Stiles appears a little green but the two lean in and manly consume the bloody morsel from the claws of their chosen wolf.

Peter smears a little deer blood onto John's lips, paints them red before lapping at them delicately with little kitten licks, their mouths finding each other shortly after.

Derek does the same to Stiles, who moans a little when the wolf turns from gentle to devouring in a matter of seconds.

The pairs break apart for breath and the two Hales lick at their lips before throwing their heads back and howling in triumph, their courtship complete. Their intendeds have found them worthy, accepted them as mates. Victory is sweet.

The rest of the wolves join in and harmonize, their human pack mates clapping and cheering as Chris watches the proceedings from the sidelines with tired yet satisfied eyes. He remembers the night Peter had presented him a deer not too long ago.

Noticing how roughed up her father appears, Allison goes over to makes sure he's okay which he waves off with a fond smile, kissing her forehead.

The two Argents then join the other humans and together they make quick work of what sections of the deer they want to save for later.

Once the meat is packed away and stored in the industrial sized freezers downstairs, Derek gives Jackson and the betas the signal and the wolves converge onto the remains with animalistic glee.

Stiles looks on after his pack; the pups tearing into the carcasses, Danny, Lydia and Allison discussing future dinner menus now that they have so much deer meat, his dad laughing at something Peter is saying while Chris rolls his eyes in exasperation.

Contentment buzzes under his skin as he stuffs his hands into his pockets.

Life is good.

He catches Derek's red eyes over the pups' free for all and the Alpha smiles slowly. Dangerous. Predatory.

He blinks, then a blush takes over his face unbidden as he recalls what's going to happen next.

Derek raises his eyebrows at him suggestively, nodding towards the forest.

He widens his eyes. _Now?_

Derek tilts his head and gives him a sexy little smile. _Why not?_

He gulps and licks at his lips, flushing further when the Alpha's eyes immediately dart to the small movement.

The pups stop gorging themselves for a moment at Stiles' increased heartbeat and turn to find the Alpha pair eye fucking each other.

Peter snorts from his spot nestled in between his two mates and waves the two off. "Go on. We got things covered here."

At that, Derek grins wolfishly. Pun intended.

"Wait, you're not doing this part, Dad?" Stiles asks nervously.

John snorts, "Old man, remember?" Stiles makes a face at him, then turns tail and runs without warning, laughing wildly at Derek's playful growl.

"Run, Little Red, run," Derek calls after him, dark humor tinging his deepening and increasingly guttural voice, cracking his neck as the shift begins to take over, "Because once I catch you, I'm never letting you go."

"I'm counting on it, Big Bad!" Stiles whoops and runs deeper into the forest as fast as his long legs can carry him - which is quite the distance thanks to running around, running away, and chasing supernatural critters - weaving through the trees and shrubbery and grinning joyously when he hears the echoing howl all the way back at the house.

The Chase is on.

* * *

**A/N: Finis! **

**...or is it? XD **

**I guess this is like a pseudo-ending, at least in regards to most of the plot.**

**From here on out, it's mostly gonna be smut.**

**Tell me, do you want the Derek/Stiles/ Jackson threesome here, or in a separate one-shot? It doesn't really fit with the rest of the story, but it's still in the same universe. **

**Let me know!**


	9. Chestnut

**A/N: I got tired looking at this one, so here it is! Haha.**

**Another little look into pack dynamics. And some Scott/Jackson! :D**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, threesomes, moresomes, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

A month passes and suddenly Christmas is almost here.

The tree is up in the corner of the living room, a huge pine tree the pack had chosen and chopped down from within the expansive acres of Hale property, lit up and decorated with ornaments contributed from all pack members, some old like the ones from the Stilinskis' attic that had otherwise been untouched before now as well as the star that Derek had found in one of the Hales' storage units, and some new ones from the trip Lydia had demanded they all join her in so they all could pick something for the tree. A mix of the past and the present.

Lydia went all out on the decorating, tinsel and no-flame candles and mistletoe artfully placed everywhere inside the house. (Of course she'd roped the boys in to do her dirty work for the outside decorations, overseeing the placement of each light and wreath until it was to her precise specifications.)

Duchess the puma got a Santa hat, and hand knit stockings hung from the mantle of the fireplace with all their names stitched on them, courtesy of Stiles' hidden talent. (He knits when he gets anxious, okay? Kind of like how he bakes when he's stressed. His _babunia_ had taught him how to knit years ago, and it's something to do with his hands so he doesn't over-think things so much as he is wont to do. Knitting requires constant focus so it's done wonders for his ADHD, and not to toot his own horn but he's pretty good at it too. ...Toot toot!)

Currently, Stiles is in the kitchen of the Hale house with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and an apron tied around his front like a shield, whistling a little tune at the counter as he's chopping up vegetables for dinner. Tonight on the menu: steaks made from the last of the deer that his dad has not-so-subtly been buttering him up to cook with trips the range to play with the big toys.

He smiles as he recalls how his dad tried to be sneaky about what he really wanted. Father-son bonding time, his very fine ass (if he does say so himself. Derek concurs).

At least he got some good pointers from Chris and the three ended up having a pretty good time together shooting targets. His father thinks he's won, but Stiles can be sneaky too and is determined to make this meal with as many healthy alternatives as possible but still make it flavorful and delicious and to die for.

He goes to check on the cake baking in the oven when suddenly there's a familiar weight on his back. A nose snuffles its way to the crook of his neck and investigates the permanent bite mark his Alpha had marked him with that night of the Chase after he was eventually caught (and woo, he'd been _caught _all right, but that is a story for another time), before a tongue flicks out and licks at it briefly.

He shivers a little and hums, reaching a hand back to pet the perpetrator's soft silky hair, "Hey, babe. What's up?"

"McCall is being an asshole," Jackson grunts, hands holding his hips in place as he continues to nose at Stiles from behind.

"I am not!" is Scott's reply as the beta comes stomping into the kitchen.

Uh oh, Scott's acting up again. He has been more frequently as of late and it almost always has something to do with Jackson.

Stiles knows that the two co-captains were never really buddy-buddy with each other before, but they're pack now. He'd thought that things would change eventually. Apparently they haven't yet.

Stiles turns around and gathers Jackson into his arms, the omega tucking his head under Stiles' chin where he likes it best. "Whoa now. What's this all about?"

Jackson snakes his arms around his waist and snuggles close, huffing in agitation, "I wanted the remote because it was my turn to pick and McCall wouldn't give it to me. He said Allison wanted to watch 'Say Yes to the Dress' with Lydia even though I've been waiting all day to see the football game."

Stiles levels Scott a look and his best friend sputters.

"He does it to me all the time!"

"Only because you take too long and can't decide on what to watch! It pisses everyone off, and I'm not the only one who does it. It's not like you care anyways, unless it's something on Animal Planet and we never change the channel then," Jackson sneers but Stiles could tell he's really upset about this. He absently runs his hand up and down Jackson's back in calming strokes and kisses the corner of his mouth.

Jackson touches their noses together and he gives the omega a reassuring smile. (Isaac is everyone's favorite but for Stiles, Jackson comes pretty damn close. Except Derek. Derek's favorite is Boyd.)

Then Stiles raises his eyebrows at Scott, who has his fists clenched at his sides, "He has a point, buddy. For some - quite frankly _stupid_ - reason, I remember you tried to pull this at Thanksgiving, too. Good thing you didn't succeed or there would have been bloodshed; yours specifically. Dad would've given you The Look – you know he would've - and Crystal would've tried to stab your eye out with her stiletto. I can tell you right now no one would've lifted a finger to stop her if you somehow managed to wrestle the remote away from Sugar Mama's iron grip."

He misses the ladies, who had all packed up for their annual end-of-year trip to Europe after they came to the house for Thanksgiving. Jungle just isn't the same without them, though there are going to be lots of souvenirs in his future according to Amber.

The beta stubbornly crosses his arms.

Stiles sighs. "Look, man. I don't know what your problem is but I'm going to have to go with Jax on this one. He's been waiting to see this game - you _know_ he has because he kept talking about it all day - so you're acting pretty douchey right now not letting him watch and I don't know why."

Scott puffs up aggressively and suddenly explodes out of nowhere, "What the hell, Stiles! Why are you siding with him? This is _Jackson_, remember? The one who picked on us throughout the school year, every year? The one who bullied us in lacrosse? He was even the kanima at one point," he sneers, "Just because he's the pack bitch he gets special treatment now?"

Stiles freezes, eyes wide, and gapes in shock as he feels Jackson go stiff as a board in his arms. "Oh,** no** you did _not_ just_ -__**Scott Matthew McCall!**_" he screams at the beta. "What the hell does that even have to do with anything?!"

Immediately after the words leave his mouth, Scott instantly cows and looks extremely guilty. "Uh...I-"

He cuts himself off when Jackson slowly pulls away from Stiles protective embrace then, the blond's movements rigid and he doesn't meet anyone's eye. "I'm going for a run," he grits out between clenched jaws.

"Okay," Stiles says dumbly after a couple of tense seconds, "uh, don't be gone too long. If you see Derek, tell him dinner will be done in a hour, okay?" He cups the side of Jackson's face and watches worriedly as the blond gives him a curt nod before stalking towards the sliding door leading to the back yard.

"H-Hey, wait!" Scott scrambles after him, grabbing his arm, "Jackson, I-"

Jackson whirls around, blue eyes lit up and cold with fury, "Don't _touch_ me!" he seethes venomously and yanks his arm back, hissing and spitting until Scott is startled into letting go. The omega takes off running, already shifted in his haste to get away.

There's a moment of silence before Stiles marches right up to him and smacks him upside the head. Scott cowers with a whine. "I cannot _believe_ you actually said that! Words cannot describe how much disbelief I am in right now!" Stiles exclaims furiously. "Oh my god, I'm so severely disappointed in you, Scott. Throwing his insecurities in his face like that. Out of _everyone_, you are the last person I'd ever think to deal such a low blow. You _know_ how sensitive he is about his time as a giant lizard, you dickwad. Just-what the hell is wrong with you." He throws his hands up. "You know what, don't bother answering that. Go back into the living room, _now_. I don't have time to deal with your grossly offensive behavior; I have dinner to finish."

He jabs a finger at the entryway and Scott goes morosely, tail tucked in between his legs.

Stiles huffs out a frustrated breath and returns to the vegetables after checking on dessert, his good mood officially ruined.

Out in the living room, Lydia sends Scott a poisonous glare and smacks him in the face with the remote while the other guys just shake their heads at him.

Allison sighs sadly, "Oh, Scott. It wasn't even that big a deal. It was a rerun anyway, and even if it wasn't, that was completely uncalled for." She turns and stares unseeingly at the TV. "We should have just let Jackson watch his game. Poor Jackson."

Scott whimpers pathetically and curls into himself. He's really screwed up this time.

Lesson learned: jealousy over Stiles will get you nowhere.

* * *

By the time Stiles is finished with dinner, his father and his two lovers arrive at the door while the betas set the table, and Jackson returns to the house with Derek in tow. The Alpha has his big, warm hand on the back of the blond's neck, helping to anchor him as the two slip into the kitchen from their respective runs.

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief and hurries over, cupping the omega's face in his hands. His mate hooks an arm around both their waists and a soothing rumble starts up in his chest.

Honey amber eyes scan Jackson from head to toe and seem satisfied when no injuries turn up.

"Glad you're back safe and sound," he murmurs and kisses Jackson's forehead. "Dinner's ready. Why don't you go freshen up, hm?"

Jackson nods, rubs his cheek against Stiles' in thanks before sauntering off to do just that.

Stiles sighs and leans into Derek's bulk.

"They'll be fine," the Alpha soothes, kissing his temple.

Stiles looks up into those beautiful hazel eyes of his mate and nuzzles his jaw. "I hope so."

* * *

Dinner is an awkward affair, conversation stilted. Even John, Chris and Peter could tell something went down while they were out.

From his seat between Allison and Isaac, Scott is staring longingly at Jackson from across the table, plate hardly touched which is extremely unusual for the beta since it's Stiles' cooking and Scott loves the food Stiles makes more than anything, second only to Allison and his mom and his pack.

The omega completely ignores him, slicing into his steak and popping the morsel into his mouth along with a scoop of creamy mashed potatoes.

To his right, Allison elbows Scott to eat while Danny and Lydia shoot looks over Jackson's head. Beside his daughter, Chris raises his eyebrows at Peter across the table in front of him who is next to the redhead, getting a shrug in reply.

The Sheriff watches everyone else at the end of the table between his two partners as he eats.

At the head of the table on the other end sits Derek, calmly demolishing the mountain of food Stiles had piled onto his plate. His son sits to the Alpha's left as his mate and to Derek's right is Boyd as his second in command. John watches as Boyd passes the salad to Isaac sitting next to him and Erica smirking at something Stiles is regaling her with, their heads leaned in close together.

Second, third and fourth helpings are had and then dessert comes and goes in a similar manner, a delicious Oreo chocolate cake that turned out perfectly, smothered with mildly sweet frosting and low-fat vanilla ice cream churned by Stiles' hand on the side. The Sheriff frowns sadly at the miniscule piece in front of him but savors the morsel since his son had forbidden Chris and Peter from giving him any of theirs, and had told them not to bother sneaking him any because he'd know - he somehow always does - and that they'd pay dearly if they do. Needless to say, Chris and Peter quickly finish off their cake and ice cream.

Soon the pack is groaning and rubbing their fully bellies, lavishing compliments to the chef that make Stiles beam and brings a pleased flush to his cheeks.

He still makes them all help clean up though, stacking their used plates and utensils as well as the serving dishes on the counter next to the sink.

Isaac is sent to the basement to put the soiled table cloth with the rest of the laundry and start a load of whites as the Alpha himself is roped into dish washing duty since it's his turn while Stiles dries.

As for the rest of the pack, they shuffle into the living room to veg out in front of the large plasma TV while their food digests.

Except for Scott, who is still in the dining room and has somehow managed to convince a reluctant Jackson into staying behind and listen to what he has to say.

Stiles nudges Derek with his hip and tosses his head in their direction, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

Derek cocks his head to listen in, which brings a smile to Stiles' face. He couldn't help it, Derek really does look like a pup when he does that. Derek gives him a look like he knows exactly what he's thinking as he shakes with silent laughter before the Alpha resumes his eavesdropping.

Stiles turns and watches the two from the corner of his eye.

Scott appears embarrassed and sad and guilty as he speaks in a low voice that Stiles couldn't hear, a sheepish hand on the back of his neck as Jackson has his arms crossed in front on him defensively, his handsome face giving nothing away.

Slowly though, oh so slowly, Stiles notices the ice melting a little around the omega's demeanor the longer Scott talks, his pretty blue eyes losing their tension and his mouth softening from the grim line it'd settled into.

The blond looks away as he says something in response and Scott takes a hesitant step closer, a hopeful look on his face.

Scott slowly reaches up and gently grips Jackson's biceps, brown eyes searching his face for something that he apparently finds because he suddenly breaks into a smile.

Jackson looks up through his lashes and doesn't object when Scott leans in for a nuzzle which smoothly turns into a soft tentative kiss a moment later, the beta's hands sliding down his back to hold his hips as their eyes flutter shut.

He hums and opens his mouth, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on Scott shoulders as their lips kiss and suck at each other gently.

Eventually they pull apart with a breathy sigh and Scott noses his face, a goofy grin curling his mouth. Jackson rolls his eyes but allows the beta to tug him into the living room to join the rest of the pack.

Stiles turns to Derek and the Alpha give him a small smile. "Told you they'd be fine."

He leans in for a kiss of his own, "So you did."

They finish the dishes together in peace.

* * *

The Alpha pair find the pups on the huge, super-soft and squishy floor cushion, custom-made with the finest materials money can buy for impromptu puppy piles for times such as this.

Jackson's in the middle, squished in between Boyd and Scott, Isaac and Danny tangled together in his legs as Erica wriggles herself into a more comfortable position between Boyd and his right side, her head resting on his abs. Lydia and Allison are spooned together above his head, their hands occasionally coming down to run through his hair.

Peter, Chris and John meanwhile are lounging on one of the large couches surrounding the massive cuddle cushion, the three oldest members of the pack lying close together with arms thrown across each others' bodies like octopi.

Stiles fights down a snort and smiles when he sees his dad blinking sleepily in Peter's arms as he rests on Chris' chest, the hunter absently petting his arm.

Then Stiles is being tugged over to the pile by Derek, the Alpha nudging pups out of the way to make room for the two of them. The pups whine and grumble at being jostled but move accordingly to accommodate the pair before they all settle in again.

Once he's comfortable, Stiles notices what's playing on the TV and blinks.

"Football?"

"The magic of TiVo," comes Lydia's flippant reply above his head before she's being shushed by Isaac. She reaches out and boops him on the nose but quiets down so the boys could enjoy their game.

Tucked up against Derek's side, Jackson looks across his Alphas' bodies to sees Scott looking back at him from under Stiles' chin, apparently forgiven by his best friend.

The other boy sends him a soft smile which he slowly returns before sliding an arm around Derek. Scott does the same around Stiles' middle and they hold hands on top of Derek's abs.

Jackson takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of _pack_ and _home_ and _safe _and knowing he's where he wants to be, where he needs to be; where he belongs.

It's a feeling he's been searching for for a long time and now that he's finally found it, he intends to hold on tight and keep it.

He turns his head back to watch his game, content.

* * *

It's getting late and soon they all start to nod off one by one.

Peter and his mates retire to their room after the game and Derek takes that as his cue to start ushering his pups to bed as well.

"C'mon, guys. Mommy and Daddy want some 'alone time'," Erica leers suggestively with a sleepy wink, cackling at Stiles' flustered face and Derek's half-hearted glare, dragging a stumbling Boyd and Isaac with her up the stairs.

Scott and Jackson are next, the two holding hands as Scott leads the blond to his room he usually shares with Allison. Said archer sees them off with a wink and a wave before she, Danny and Lydia decide to stay up a little while longer.

With that, the Alpha pair bid them goodnight – Stiles giggling at the flush on Danny's face when Derek reels him in with an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, the tease – before shuffling off to the Master bedroom.

* * *

Days later Stiles' hyperactive brain wouldn't let him stop thinking about Erica's playful jab.

He knows he's the 'mom' of the pack, sort of speak. C'mon, he keeps the pack fed and happy, makes sure they get along with each other and even cleans up after them for crying out loud. That isn't to say he doesn't know how to keep them all in line either or get them to pull their own weight with assigned chores, like his namesake always know how to do.

So naturally if he's Pack Mom then that makes Derek Pack Dad, doesn't it?

* * *

The first time it happens, it just sort of slips out. Of course it does, because he is Stiles and with the amount of time he's spent obsessing over it, it was only a matter of time before his brain-to-mouth filter fails him yet again.

They're in bed, Stiles openly moaning as he arches up and clutches at the sheets next to his head while Derek worships his body at his own leisure with lips and fingers and that wicked tongue of his.

The pups are all out today buying last minute presents and won't be back 'til late so they have the house to themselves. What better way to spend it than on his back with his Alpha between his thighs?

Stiles is not ashamed of how easy he is for Derek, not one bit. When the wolf had slowly backed him up - not unlike the sexy predator he is, stalking his prey - to splay him out on their bed like an all-you-can-eat buffet, it made him feel powerful to know that just by biting his lip and spreading his legs, he could bring a strong Alpha male like Derek to his knees, like he is now.

But after being teased for _hours, _Stiles is desperate, whimpering and pulling at Derek's hair. He wants _more_.

The wolf chuckles, causing Stiles to buck his hips up, and with one final suck he pulls off of Stiles' dick, pressing a kiss to the shiny red mushroom head before blowing on it gently.

Stiles whines and makes grabby hands for Derek, pulling the wolf up onto the bed from the floor and bringing his face down for a sloppy open-mouthed kiss.

Derek growls, red eyes glowing softly, and nips at Stiles' bottom lip. "Greedy pup."

Stiles merely purrs and nuzzles his stubbly chin, submissive and horny for his Alpha.

The wolf smirks and takes a hold of the plug that's shoved up inside Stiles as a placeholder, gently pulling it out and getting a little shiver in response. A trickle of lube escapes down Stiles' cleft and he rumbles deeply at the sight of Stiles' entrance grasping at the air for something to fill it before he's shifting them further onto the bed and pushing into Stiles' eager hole, nice and loose and slick from their earlier play.

Derek wastes no time and starts pounding his mate into the mattress. Stiles isn't the only one close to his limit.

"Uh, uhn," Stiles mewls and clings desperately onto Derek as his Alpha fucks deep into his ass with relentless power, the boy unable to do anything but hold on for the ride.

He keens high and needy as Derek drives into him, wanting so much to cum and not thinking about anything else, much less what comes out of his mouth next.

"_Daddy._"

As soon as the word leaves his lips though, his eyes go wide with horror and Derek immediately stills above him. The older man slowly lifts his head from his spot against Stiles' neck to stare down at him, confirming his fears.

"What did you just call me?"

Stiles' face goes bright red, utterly mortified.

"N-...Nothing! Nothing at all - I didn't say anything." He shakes his head vehemently in denial as he starts to panic on the inside. "Ohmygod, _no._ Nope. _Nada." _Oh my _god,_ did he actually say that out loud?! Really?!

Derek doesn't relent.

"Stiles." The wolf's eyes flash red and Stiles whines at him pathetically, not able to deny the authority in his Alpha mate's voice, not like this.

He bites his lip and looks away shamefaced, "I...I called you Daddy," he repeats in a barely audible mumble, face burning with humiliation, "I-Is that too kinky...?"

A throaty growl is all the warning he gets before Derek abruptly pulls out, almost all the way until only the tip remains, and then yanks his thin hips forward.

A scream forces its way out of his chest as Derek rams his prostate with brutal accuracy, leaving him shaking violently and clutching at Derek's biceps.

"Say it again," the older man rumbles low, leaning down to lick at Stiles' open mouth.

"D-Daddy," he moans for his Alpha, sweet and pretty.

Derek pulls out and thrusts back in with a snap of his hips, resulting in a sharp whimper. "Again."

"Ah, a-ah-! _Daddy._"

Fuck, that's so fucking _hot_. Derek's growls turns feral as he roughly fucks his mate into submission.

"Again!"

"Oh god! Ugh! Daddy!" Stiles gives it up to him and cries for more, nails scratching long red lines down Derek's back that quickly disappear as soon as they come, "Please, please - _fuck me!"_

"Yeah," Derek grunts and tongue fucks Stiles' mouth as he savagely ruts into his mate, "Fuck you, gonna fuck you stupid. Fill you up, keep you full. Keep you here with me." Snarling softly, he ratchets up his speed, "Spend my days making you happy, and my nights putting you to bed with a belly full of cum. Have you wear my ring and my collar, never let you go." He groans as Stiles keens and clamps down on him, "You like that, don't you baby? You like the idea of belonging to me?"

"Yes, _yes_." He wants to cum _so bad_. "Daddy, _please_."

"Not yet," Derek rumbles darkly, "I'm not done with you yet."

He rears up and throws Stiles' legs over his shoulders, spread wide by the Alpha's large hands under his knees.

Stiles lets out a thin reedy sound, now almost bent in half as his Alpha fucks down into his red puffy hole. He's mesmerized by the look on Derek's face, those impressive brows pulled into a deep 'v' of utter concentration as sweat drips down the Alpha's face.

God, he's so beautiful.

"Gonna take care of you. Always take such good care of you, Stiles – _Fuck_."

"_Mmh. Yes._" Stiles squirms and reaches up for his face, parting his mouth for kiss.

Derek growls and gives him what he wants.

Stiles always gets what he wants; whatever Derek has, whatever that is in his power to have, to obtain, he'll give it to him. His den, his pack, his name; his _life_ and_ heart_ and _soul._ Everything. And Stiles knows it, and treasures it and will never, _ever_ abuse it, for he will take it, take everything that is Derek, and give back every inch of what he is – human, spark, _mate_ – as well as what he's capable of, a hundred times over.

"_Unh_ – Daddy. Daddy, I'm so_ empty,_" he whimpers, clenching down on Derek when he tries to pull out for another thrust in, and earns himself a groan from deep within the Alpha's chest, "Knot me, knot me, please. Want it so bad. Want you to breed me, Alpha. Please!"

"Fuck, baby, the things you _do to me_," Derek moans, deep and throaty, before he's rolling onto his back with his mate perched on top of him, holding him steady by the hips as the boy reorients himself from the sudden change in scenery. Red eyes flare up brilliantly. "Show me how much you want it."

Balancing himself up with his hands on Derek's solid chest, Stiles bites his bottom lip and goes for broke, riding that huge, fat cock inside him like his life depended on it.

"Unh! Unh! Unh!_ Unh!_" It won't be much longer now; he's falling apart at the seams, just needing that extra push over the edge.

With a powerful thrust of his hips Derek gives it to him, making him cum spectacularly all over the wolf's chest in huge white splatters.

Derek purrs like he's pleased that he's covered in Stiles' cum, the kinky beast, and lunges up one more time, his bulging knot catching the rim of Stiles' pucker before slipping in and locking them in place.

Stiles screams when the knot presses into his prostate, trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm as Derek swivels his hips up against his sensitive passage and cums deep inside his ass.

He mewls when Derek presses a finger to his stuffed hole, fucked raw and open, and finally collapses against Derek's chest, not caring about the sticky mess between them.

Before he passes out he hears Derek whisper a tender 'I love you', and smiles.

* * *

By the time they stumble down the stairs for some food, damp from round _n_ in the shower 'cause Derek just couldn't keep his hands to himself, the rest of the pack have returned to the house.

Boyd starts the slow clap and the rest of the pups quickly follow suit, Erica bringing her fingers up and wolf-whistles as Danny howls softly in the background. Isaac is smirking while Jackson stares at his Alphas with a hungry intensity, blue eyes glowing softly.

The pack laughs when Stiles flushes and Derek's ears go bright red, the two belatedly remembering that the bathroom isn't soundproof.

"_Somebody's_ been busy all day," Peter remarks with a delicate sniff, smirking with an eyebrow wiggle. "Nice shirt, Stiles."

"_Uncle_," Derek glares at him as Stiles groans and mutters something about 'creeper Peter'.

Peter smiles innocently and returns with an indulgent "Nephew."

Stiles hugs the soft worn henley he's wearing protectively to his chest, which is a size too big and just so happens to belong to Derek (a fact that has Derek's wolf howling and rolling around happily inside his psyche), and sticks his tongue out at the room before stomping into the kitchen with a huff to whip up some snacks.

Sometimes his packs sucks, therefore no snacks for them.

Jackson and Isaac jump up and hurry after him, wanting to help so Stiles doesn't stay mad at them and maybe persuade their pack mom to make them something too. Danny smiles and stands, grabbing Derek's hand to tug his Alpha along as well and trail after them.

(Of course, Stiles caves against the combined power of Jackson's cuddles, Isaac's puppy eyes and Danny's dimples, so the three end up getting their snacks. Evil little buggers.)

"Now, Peter," Chris chides with a smirk, "Leave the boys alone."

"Yeah, considering last night, you were so-" John starts up under his breath, before cutting himself off when he remembers he's in the company of werewolves with super hearing, and looks up from his papers to see the remaining pups staring at him, Erica and Lydia, who is seated close by, looking particularly interested. Scott looks puzzled, then after a beat looks absolutely horrified.

Peter chuckles at his mate's faux pas and Chris hides his grin behind his mug.

Erica whistles again."Damn. Looks like Papa Stilinski's got_ game_," she says with a laugh, wiggling her eyebrows at the Sheriff.

"Erica, language," John weakly admonishes. Erica just winks at him. The Sheriff is her favorite after all.

Lydia lets out a dainty scoff, "Of course he does, just look at him. He landed Papa Argent, no?"

"Lydia!" Allison blushes and hides her face in Scott's shoulder, whose gone pale and a little green. C'mon, this is her _father_ that her _friends_ are talking about. Really, girls? Really?

"Hey!" Peter pouts, "What about me?"

Lydia raises a brow, "What _about_ you?"

"Ah, so cruel, my dear," Peter languishes back with a whine, a hand to his heart.

John coughs and rustles his papers in an attempt to hide how flustered he is as Chris lets out a deep laugh.

Kids these days. Shameless, the lot of them.

When Christmas Eve finally arrives, and the pups are all scattered on the floor tearing into their presents when the clock strikes midnight, Stiles opens the one he gets from Derek.

It's a collar, simply beautiful in black and made from a soft buttery leather with a round pendant of platinum attached on a ring right in the center, stamped with the symbol of the triskelion.

Big brown eyes look up into feral red full of love and possession, and he tackles his Alpha in his enthusiasm. They go down in a tangle of limbs as Stiles smooches his mate within an inch of his life, peppering kisses all over his stupidly gorgeous face.

Words fail him so he takes a page out of Derek's book and shows him just how much it means to him through action. He loves his wolf so much.

Just as they part softly with a smile, Stiles' a little watery as Derek nuzzles his face with such tender care, the doorbell rings and the ladies let themselves in with the house key Stiles had given them before their trip, like they had gifted him with.

"Guess whose back early!" announces Sugar Mama with a flourish and the pack cheers and welcomes them home with wide open arms.

Best Christmas ever.


	10. Venetian

**A/N: Okay, so I lied. XD That threesome one-shot I told y'all about has somehow found a way into the main timeline. Woo! **

**For those of yu who didn't want the Derek/Stiles/Jackson threesome, skip this chapter as well as the next one coming up after. Please and tank yu! **

**For those of you eagerly awaiting this installment, enjoy! I tried my best. :P May be edited at a later date. Read onward!**

**Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.**

**Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC**

* * *

Jackson stares up at the store sign, then back at Stiles.

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Oh, don't give me that look. You liked the ones you got for Christmas, didn't you?"

Jackson grumbles. "...Yeah, but," he looks up at the sign again, "did we really need to drive all the way out here, two towns over?"

"Look, this is where the ladies take me shopping, and probably where Anita had gotten them. It's quality stuff and I know how you get about quality, so quit your whining."

Jackson pouts but allows himself to be led in by the hand after Stiles kisses his cheek to appease him.

* * *

A familiar ring sounds from his laptop and Derek clicks to accept the video call. Stiles' face fills the screen, brown doe eyes twinkling with mischief as his boy gives him a crooked grin. "Hi, Daddy."

A slow smile curls his lips. Eyes lidded, Derek replies, "Hey, baby. I miss you."

"Miss you, too," Stiles sighs and runs a hand through his tousled hair, "But you'll be back soon, right? Just a couple more days at the super-secret west coast Alpha werewolf convention?"

He rolls his eyes fondly at the ridiculous title. "Yes, Stiles."

"Mm, good. Can't wait 'til you're home for Valentine's." Stiles' eyes smolder at him before the look is gone as soon as it appears. "So, have you learned anything interesting while you've been down there? You're playing nice with the other Alphas, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

Stiles squints at him for a moment, then says, "Liar."

"Am not."

"Are too. You, mister, are a lying liar who lies. I bet you're doing your typical broody-and-mysterious-stay-away-from-me-grr shtick you have going on. Mr. Grumpers."

Derek scoffs as his mate sticks his tongue out and laughs at him.

"Well, if you're going to be like that tonight," he starts in a light tone, making the younger man shut his trap and straighten up noticeably because that tone can only mean trouble for Stiles, "I guess you don't want me to bring this back?"

He picks something up from off screen before showing it to Stiles.

Brown eyes widen dramatically. "Is that-?"

"-The ancient tomb on herbal remedies you've spent weeks scouring the depths of the internet for? Maybe."

"Der-_eeek_, you bastard!" his mate whines at him, "Where did you find it?!"

"Alpha Bragg from Oregon owed me a favor," he answers with a nonchalant shrug, idly flipping through the fragile parchment. "Gonna be good for me now, mate?"

Stiles pouts at him for a moment before his expression slips into something a little more sweet and seductive, something Derek's always loved.

"Always, Daddy." His mate smirks then pulls away from the camera, and Derek takes a moment to stare at what he's wearing.

"Is that my jacket?"

Stiles smiles at him coyly and snuggles into it, giving himself a hug. He pulls a lapel close to his nose and inhales a deep lungful of Derek's rich, woodsy scent, "Mm, what can I say, I've missed you."

Derek notices he's not wearing much else, teasing peeks of pale dotted skin flashing at him briefly from underneath the leather, and the pendant of his collar glimmering faintly in the soft dim light. A bit of red catches his eye and he blinks, irises changing from hazel to crimson in a heartbeat.

"Stiles."

His mate bites his lip, a small blush tinting his face. "Fuck, I love it when your eyes go all Alpha on me," he breathes before he leans back further onto their bed and spreads his legs – clad in sheer stockings with little red bows at the top - revealing the little red lacy things that are trying real hard to pass as panties. Which is to say, not all that hard at all.

Speaking of **hard**...

Derek groans deep in his chest and flops back in his chair, "_Fuck,_ Stiles."

His mate smiles - all sly and teasing, the little minx – and winks at him, "We'll be getting to that soon enough. You like? I just bought them today."

His eyes narrow. "I knew I haven't seen those ones before."

Stiles licks his lips, leaving them shiny and moist, "Thought of you when I saw them, so obviously I couldn't resist getting them."

With his arousal evident, Derek's voice turns husky with his next words, "I like them on you, but I think I'd like them better off even more."

Stiles' laugh is delighted, "I'd thought you'd never ask."

Slim, dexterous fingers trail down Stiles' chest, revealing his hard little nipples from under the jacket as Stiles fingers the edge of the panties. The boy toys with the hem a bit more before laying back on a convenient pile of pillows and arching like a kitten, shimmying the scrap of fabric down his legs where they stay stretched taut between his hairless thighs.

Stiles bites his lip again, whiskey eyes looking at him from under dark lashes. "What should I do now, Daddy?"

Derek's pupils dilate, black eating up red, and he growls low, "Spread 'em."

"_Mnh-_" Stiles does so with a shudder, face going slack as he sinks into the heady feeling of subspace.

Derek knows that Stiles appreciates not having to think all the time. No plotting or strategizing here; all the boy has to do is follow his Alpha's commands and feel - which he does so beautifully, so eagerly.

The werewolf always makes sure Stiles knows he's loved and cared for, even when he's being taken apart and put back together again._ Especially _when he's being taken apart and put back together again.

Derek tsks softly, "You can do better than that. Use your hands, baby. Spread them further."

Stiles nods and obeys, his hands reaching down to pull his cheeks apart. His face flushes pink, feeling exposed under his Alpha's possessive gaze.

"Mm, there it is," Derek murmurs, voice going dark and velvety like melted chocolate, "What a cute little pussy hole you have, baby. So pretty and pink. You've been a good boy for me, haven't you." Said hole clenches involuntarily in response and Stiles lets out a soft needy sound, that delicious little blush staining his cheeks quickly spilling down his chest, highlighting those irresistible moles of his. The wolf tilts his head to side, sexy scarlet eyes trained on his delectable mate, "Or rather, a good girl?"

They have a rule: when Derek is away, Stiles isn't allowed to play with his hole without his mate's permission; that's for Derek when he comes home, so he can ruin that virgin-tight ass all over again, fucking that soft pink pucker until it's loose and sloppy and the angriest shade of red from his thick cock and fat knot.

That means Stiles hasn't had a satisfying orgasm since his mate had left for Nevada three days ago. The boy's rutted and fucked through his vastly growing collection of toys while wearing Derek's shirts to get off but nothing comes close to the nirvana he reaches at the hands of his Alpha mate.

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy," murmurs Stiles in between the shivers wracking his body, struggling to hold still so Derek could look his fill and savor the view to his heart's content, "I've been so good...a-a good girl for my Alpha."

"Is that so," Derek purrs, "Then you deserve a reward." He palms himself through his jeans, eager to get this show on the road. "Let's fill you up, hm? Bet you've missed have a cock stuffing your pussy, don't you, beautiful."

"_Yes_, so much," his boy mewls, toes curling in his stockings as he trembles in anticipation.

_Fuck,_ so sexy. Fucking little cockslut.

Derek's fangs itch in his gums, wanting to drop down and gnash and _bite_. He takes a slow steadying breath and lets it out through his nose then manages to say in an even tone, "Good. Get yourself ready for me."

Stiles lets go of his ass cheeks and grabs the nearest lube stashed away under the pillows, getting his fingers wet and rubbing one up against his tight little pucker with a soft breathy sigh, teasing himself - teasing them both. One finger slips in – his hole taking it easily even after days of disuse, opening up like a flower around the digit - then two, then three, until he's slick and stretched and waiting for his next cue from Derek, honey brown eyes begging.

Derek hums in approval, loving it when Stiles gets like this for him, all defenseless and vulnerable. Like prey.

He gives the order, "Grab a toy and fuck yourself, baby. Fuck yourself on that hard dick, like you'd fuck me. Go slow, and no touching that pretty clit of yours." He smirks evilly, "That's for later."

Stiles whimpers a little at that last part, cock twitching, but complies and hastily reaches for something off screen. It's dildo, not as big as Derek, but long and textured with a knot at the end; Stiles' favorite.

Inside his head his wolf rears up and roars at him, fighting to the surface, wanting to be there to mount his mate and give him a _real_ dick to fuck, pin him down by the neck - head down, ass up - and stake his claim all over again.

With claws digging into the arms of his chair, he forces himself to relax as he watches Stiles lube up and push the dildo into his ass in one smooth slide, a sluttish moan escaping as muscles clench onto the toy like it couldn't get enough.

"What a greedy hole you have, pet," he murmurs, "Look how hungry it is."

Stiles lets out a choked mewl then thrusts his hips back onto the toy until it's flush against his bottom. He starts to fuck himself on it like Derek wants him to, works himself over slowly as soft bitten off sounds leave his lips.

Derek knew it wouldn't last long though, his noisy mate.

Heated crimson eyes are locked onto his boy as Stiles plunges the toy in and out of his sopping hole with long punctuated thrusts, desperation starting to color his movements the longer he fucks his own ass from his desire for faster, harder - but he couldn't give in to it, not yet; forced to wait for it like his Alpha taught him to.

"You want it so _fucking_ bad, don't you," Derek growls from the back of his throat minutes later, squeezing his engorged length through his jeans.

"Yes, Daddy," Stiles pants, sweat glistening his skin from his steady but forceful ministrations as his breathing hitches, "H-huh..._hunh –_ so good. Please."

"Please what."

"Please, can I – ah! - can I knot? I want to knot." His mate's lashes flutter when Stiles seeks out his prostate, that gorgeous mouth lush and open in a perfectly obscene little 'o' as he gulps for air. "Please, Daddy, please." He slurs, "Been empty for so _long_..."

Derek purrs, all big and masculine. "Well, since you asked so nicely..." He leans back in his chair and pulls himself out of his confining jeans at last, playing with the foreskin sheathing his cock head, "Go ahead then, baby girl. Knot yourself, but don't cum yet."

"Yes, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy," Stiles babbles and lets out a hot little gasp as the knot pops through. He's trembling, arching his back and grinding his ass down against the bed to push it in further, feel it deeper, fingers clenching the pillows by his head. "Ah! Ahn! _Mmh!_"

"That's it. Good," rumbles Derek, stroking himself roughly, fucking up into his fist, "So _tight_."

A loud whimper is heard.

But it doesn't come from Stiles.

Instantly Derek pauses, one hand on his dick, and cocks his head to the side. No, it definitely didn't come from Stiles, whose chest is heaving too heavily to utter such a noise. Besides, he knows every little sound his mate's ever uttered.

It certainly didn't come from _him_.

"...Stiles?"

On the bed, his boy is biting his lip again, amber eyes hazy but unapologetic, maybe even a little smug?

"Oops," Stiles breathes out, all naughty and coy. "Busted."

That mischievous grin reappears before he's looking away from Derek and flings an arm across the bed, crooking a finger in a lazy 'come-hither' motion to someone out of frame.

Then blue eyes are peeking up sheepishly at Derek from the corner of the screen.

"Surprise!" comes Stiles' jaunty response, complete with jazz hands.

Derek's eyebrows shoot up. "Jackson?"

* * *

Jackson cautiously pulls himself up onto the bed at Stiles' insistence and curls up against the human's side when Stiles sits up – gingerly, of course, because dildo – to shrug off the jacket and pull his panties off completely. The brunet flings them over his shoulder before twisting around to greet him with a kiss.

Then Jackson murmurs, "Hi, Alpha," shyly to the camera and ducks his head into Stiles' neck afterward, slowly turning red the longer Derek continues to stare at him in surprise. He's not sure what the older wolf is thinking right now, not sure if he's even welcome here in such an intimate setting for his Alphas.

Sensing his turmoil, Stiles coos and turns to the omega, hugging him close and petting his hair to comfort him.

"Jax has been a good boy," Stiles tells Derek, "He's kept me company all day and even went shopping with me when everyone else was busy."

"Is that true, pup?" comes his Alpha's voice filtered over the speakers.

He nods against Stiles' neck, nose brushing against his collar, then peeks back up to see Derek's infamously unreadable face looking back at him.

"I think he deserves a reward," Stiles chirps up helpfully, and Jackson blushes when his Alpha locks gazes with him.

"Is that so," Derek drawls.

"Mhm, and look! We even picked some things out for him too!"

Stiles then proceeds to pounce on Jackson and wrestle him into position as the bewildered omega struggles half-heartedly underneath the other boy until he's manhandled into resting back onto Stiles' chest between his legs, facing the computer. Stiles hooks his feet around the blond's ankles and spreads them until Jackson's powder blue panties, white stockings and matching lacy garter belt are on display. "Tada~!" says Stiles, panting lightly, his face flushed from the toy being jostled around during their little skirmish, "Aren't they adorable?"

"Stiles!" Jackson grumbles at him but quiets when the other boy gently shushes him with his lips and strokes his naked chest. Stiles tweaks his nipples and he moans against that cupid's bow mouth before the brunet is nudging at his face with his nose until he turns his head back to see Derek rake deep red eyes in a slow, unhurried sweep down his bared form. He feels the gaze like a caress, his whole body going bright pink when Derek stares down the hard cock outlined in his panties. It gives a little twitch under such intense scrutiny and a little precum oozes out, creating a dark spot. Derek chuckles.

"Hm. Pretty pup," the older man states with approval and Jackson's wolf whimpers, wanting to please and submit properly to his Alpha. Instinctively, his hands come up to curl near the base of his neck to show more of his belly, so there's nothing hindering Derek's view of his body. He lowers his eyes and bares his neck in submission for good measure.

Derek's eyes go half-lidded, and he absolutely _purrs_. "Lovely boy, look how good you're being. My gorgeous omega pup."

Jackson peeks up from beneath his lashes at that and nibbles his lip, smiling radiantly which causes Stiles to coo and kiss at his face as he preens under his Alphas' attention. "Thank you, Alpha," he replies softly, lust and reverence shining in his glowing blue eyes before Stiles is pecking at his shoulder, drawing his attention away from Derek for the moment. Stiles nuzzles him until the blond turns his face up for a kiss, accepting the persistent tongue gently poking at his lips with a little moan.

They kiss and nip and mouth at each other, making out in sensual leisure until they're forced to break for air, soft puffs of breath hitting the other's swollen lips.

"Let's give Alpha a good show, huh?" Stiles whispers conspiratorially to him and grinds his neglected erection into his silk covered ass. He whimpers and throws his head back onto his shoulder in acquiescence.

One of Stiles' hands creeps down his chest past his abs to cup his cock, diligent finger tips teasing his sac through the silk, making Jackson squirm and arch into it, wanting more. They answer his silent plea and dip in between his cheeks to press against his hole, causing more precum to soak into his panties. "Stiles. Please."

"Okay, babe. I've got you," Stiles murmurs in between kisses, "Take these off for me?" He tugs at the soiled panties until Jackson unclips his garters and hooks his fingers into the offending garments, lifting up his hips impatiently to pull them all the way off and throwing them off the side of the bed to join Stiles' pair on the floor. "There you go. Better," Stiles says, pleased, "Good boy."

Jackson yips and licks at the other boy's mouth, always eager to please.

Crooning, Stiles nuzzles him for being so cute and takes Jackson's dick into his hand, starting to pump him, feather-light strokes at first before tightening his grip and giving it to his pup harder once he gets a rhythm going. The other hand slides down to massage his balls, one finger easing back to stroke his taint, the rim of his hole; pressing hard at the pucker before slipping inside the blond's tight channel, already lubed up with wet omega slick, perfect for plundering. (Scott had helped discover that little treat.)

Jackson groans deep from his chest, nose pressed against Stiles' cheek, clutching at Stiles' thighs as he undulates against the brunet's trapped dick, needing something bigger inside him now. He lets out a low whine when Stiles pulls the finger away, but settles when the other boy kisses him soothingly.

"Get on him on his back," he hears his Alpha growl, "Want to see you suck him off, baby."

* * *

Stiles wriggles happily against Jackson with an enthusiastic "Yes, Daddy", flushed and breathless and terribly aroused as he moves them into a better position for the camera.

Biting his lip, he settles into the cradle of Jackson's parted thighs and splays himself on top of the omega, catching Jackson's mouth with his own for another steamy tongue session as he gropes around to find the pup's hands, pinning them above his head and linking their fingers together once he does.

"_Mmh,_" Jackson moans when they part with a noisy smack, Stiles humming and nosing at his face affectionately. He squeezes Jackson's hands to make sure they stay in place before heading south, long bony fingers trailing down Jackson's sculpted arms and sides to anchor themselves onto his hips as he peppers kisses all the way down his chest, between his pecs to his abs which makes the pup arch up into it with a breathy little moan. He detours to a hipbone, inspecting a groove that forms the blond's deep 'v' with his tongue before arriving at his final destination.

Lapping at Jackson's weeping cock with tiny kitten licks, eliciting more soft and needy sounds from the pup, he catches stray droplets of precum on his tongue.

"Stay," Stiles chides when Jackson tries to buck up and the blond wolf whines, pouting down at him.

"Do as your mama says, pup," comes Derek's husky voice, darkly amused, and Stiles shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the pet name. He smiles playfully at the camera all the same, meeting feral red eyes gleaming in the darkness on screen, the light of Derek's computer highlighting his chest and the bottom half of that stupidly handsome face of his.

Jackson's pout deepens a bit before he does as he's told and lays still. Stiles turns back to him and smirks, then rubs his face against the blond's cock as a reward and pets his thighs. "Good boy," he says as neon blue eyes watch him before they flutter shut when he goes down on him, Jackson's mouth falling open around a truly explicit moan, worthy of a porno.

His pup tries to be good, tries real hard, but when Stiles pulls up with a loud slurp – cheeks hollowing briefly – and moves down to mouth at his tightening balls, he whimpers pathetically, having had to hold back for so long. Jackson's lower body trembles with little jolts of pleasure as the omega fights to keep his hips from thrusting up - keep himself from cumming without permission. Alpha doesn't like it when he doesn't obey that particular rule, and his punishments were as cruel as they were terribly pleasurable.

Stiles takes pity on him though, and kisses his sensitive cock head with wet red lips, suckling on the blushing mushroom cap before opening his mouth wide and swallowing him all the way down his throat, making Jackson throw back his head and keen high and desperate at the feeling of warm constricting muscles massaging his aching cock.

"Oh god, Stiles, if you keep doing that 'm not gonna last," he's slurring a few minutes later, clenching the sheets above his head and biting his lip against the torrent of noises that want to escape.

"Not yet, pup," Derek rumbles over the speakers, "You know better than that."

Jackson whimpers again and lowers his eyes, "Y-Yes, Alpha. Always, Alpha."

Stiles groans around his mouthful, so explicitly turned on by just how submissive Jackson gets for Derek. He bobs his head faster, up and down and up and down and back again, the sounds he makes obscene and filthy. He swallows once which causes Jackson to cry out before Stiles is pulling off of him completely and blows cool air onto his wet cock, chin dribbling spit and precum.

The pup lets out a broken sob - oh, so _close_ - but Stiles shushes him soothingly, crawling back up his body to make love to his mouth.

"There, there, baby. Mama's here," he says, and Jackson mewls, greedily taking in the taste of himself on Stiles' lips and chin.

"Please," he begs and Stiles starts to rocks his hips against his own, rubbing their pulsing cocks together. They moan into the other's mouth, sloppily making out with each other as Stiles props himself up on his forearms beside the blond's head and Jackson's hands slide down his back to palm and squeeze his ass, making Stiles mewl.

"That's it. I want to see you two rutting against each other just like that," Derek rumbles, red eyes flaring up hotly as sweat dots his temples, his shirt sticking to his torso that would have made Michelangelo weep as his fist blurs over his rock-hard cock, aching for a hole to fuck, "Let's see if you can make yourselves cum like this. No hands, no penetration."

Stiles whines, hips stuttering into Jackson as his puffy asshole flexes around the toy still knotted inside him. "Daddy. No fair..."

Derek hums, his voice deceptively calm, "Are you complaining, pet?"

Ducking his head, Stiles shakes it 'no', but mutters under his breath, "So _mean_."

Derek smirks wickedly at that. "You like it when I'm mean. Now do as I say. I know you can take it."

With a soft, broken sound Stiles obeys and gets to work, frotting against Jackson with one goal in mind. He focuses his sights on the omega below him; the moist, plush softness of his parted lips, how pretty his eyes are – open and trusting and so very _blue;_ that fucking adorable blush staining his beautiful face, strong and sharp and masculine, but so unlike the dark handsome ruggedness that Derek possesses, almost angelic in certain lights.

Suddenly an image of how the pup would look on Derek's lap comes to mind, writhing and moaning like a bitch in heat with his thighs spread wide on either side of Derek's hips before flopping down to rest limply on his Alpha's chest, stuck on his knot, ass hot and sore from the spanking Daddy's just given him. Derek's hand would come to rest on a rosy red cheek, petting and fondling it possessively like it belonged there before one finger slips in between to rub at where they're tied, the pup's hole fluttering around his hot engorged knot at his touch.

"Fuck," Stiles whimpers, his ass spasming around the toy inside him at the thought. He wants that, wants to see that particular fantasy come true ASAP; his big, strong Alpha putting their little omega in his place, pinned underneath his chest where he belongs – on his back or with his ass up in the air, it doesn't really matter - as they rut like the animals inside. Mmm.

The two boys hump and grind their hips together as best they can, sweaty and wanton in their mounting desperation as they arch and strain against each other erotically.

"Mm-_ah,_" Jackson pants, thrusting into the space where Stiles' thigh meets his hip, his hands rhythmically squeezing and massaging the brunet's soft ass cheeks. "Fuck, that's good - more!" he demands, his fingers slipping into Stiles' crack and firmly pressing against the dildo buried inside.

Stiles lets out a startled gasp, not expecting the hot rush of tingling pleasure to overtake his already muddled senses. It blinds him momentarily before he's pushing himself up to kneel on shaky limbs, making Jackson whine in protest. This is not what the blond wanted _at all_.

Above him, Stiles wants to reassure the pup but the need for better leverage takes top priority, his body wobbling slightly until he spreads his knees for balance and grabs at Jackson's legs to throw his calves over his shoulders. Satisfied with the new position, he hold Jackson down and fucks hard against the pup's dick like a man possessed, frantically chasing after his own orgasm.

"Ah, ah, Stiles! Yeah, like that!" Jackson cries out, breath stuttering as he does his best to meet Stiles' hurried thrust for thrust. "Oh, so _good_..."

"Pretty bitch, pretty baby," Derek growls roughly from the computer screen, his wolf clearly in the driver's seat as he works himself over furiously towards the edge, "Can't wait to come home. Gonna mount you and fuck you, breed you both 'til you cry and cum on my knot."

"_Yes, _make it good. Make me cum," Jackson begs, thrashing against the sheets. "Please, oh please, I want it, Alpha, mount me _please._"

"Bet your tight little boy cunt's wet and ready for me, isn't it baby? Don't worry, Daddy's gonna fill you up with so much cum, lock it all inside your pretty boy pussy with my knot until you're full and bulging with pups."

"You two will make the prettiest babies," Stiles moans out, and with a choked gasp, his pup cums just like that, the omega's lonely hole grasping for the phantom knot it craves as Jackson shudders through his climax, white striping his chest and stomach before petering out in gushes. Groaning loudly at the sight, Stiles follows soon after, adding to the hot sticky mess pooling on Jackson's abs.

Catching his breath, he runs a hand through the mess and flicks his tongue out to let himself have a taste before pushing two fingers into Jackson's open mouth. The pup eagerly sucks on them, lapping up the last vestiges clinging to the digits as well as the others and Stiles' palm until Stiles pulls it away to take his mouth with his own, sharing their mingled essence together.

On screen, Derek cums as well with a gruff snarl, rumbling out his contentment afterward and absently bringing his soiled hand up to his mouth to lick clean.

Both his boys snap to attention and zero in on him hungrily, their tongues darting out to wet swollen kiss-bruised lips. They want a taste of their Alpha too. No fair.

He smiles, slow and predatory.

"Patience, pups. I'm not done with the two of you just yet. Though, I do hope you're enjoying yourselves so far... especially you, Stiles." His mate gulps at being mentioned and looks back at him wide-eyed as he continues menacingly, "Don't think you're getting out of punishment for this little stunt - inviting Jackson to our play time without my permission - no matter how pleasant a surprise it turned out to be. Savor tonight because when I get home, your asses are _mine._"

Both his boys whimper at that and cling to each other.

* * *

Hours later the two collapse in a tangle of panting sweaty limbs covered in tears and cum and saliva, the dildo now firmly knotted in Jackson's drenched asshole.

He's on his stomach, Stiles flopped over the length of his back as the brunet rides out his last orgasm of the night, rutting against his stuffed pucker in between his slippery cum covered ass cheeks until he finally goes soft and still.

Stiles sighs happily, presses butterfly kisses to every available patch of skin he can reach and snuffles at his neck and face, making him purr sleepily.

He hears his Alpha chuckle, detecting an underlining layer of fondness in the pretty sound.

"Go to sleep, pups. I'll see you two soon."

"Mmf. G'night, Daddy. I love you," Stiles calls out from over Jackson's shoulder, whiskey eyes blinking sluggishly at the computer.

"Night, Alpha," Jackson says, chin resting on folded forearms as soft red eyes regard them tenderly, almost like they couldn't believe what they're seeing, like Derek couldn't believe they were_ his._

His silly sentimental Alpha gets like that sometimes - with the rest of the pack too - like he couldn't believe he's allowed to be this happy, couldn't believe he deserves such a good life after everything he's been through, and doesn't that just make Jackson wanna puppy-pile him along with the others until the older wolf feels better about himself. The omega makes a mental note to talk to the rest of pack about it later. They're due for one soon anyway.

"Love you, too," Derek quietly replies back, "Proud of you two. My beautiful boys." Stiles gives a little wiggle and a happy noise at that and Jackson smiles sweetly for his Alpha. Oh, yeah, puppy pile is definitely on in the near future. "Sweet dreams."


End file.
